


Mettaton vs The Surface

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale
Genre: Agoraphobia, King Mettaton Ending, M/M, Mettaton-centric, Multi, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Other, Panic Attacks, also fluff between the trauma, bad neutral is as bad as this frisk went!, frisk is frisk, general triggering thoughts, have you ever read finaglc?, lots of trauma, not a soulless-pacifist, post resets, sans stays on the side, therapy presented as positive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 81,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8764546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mettaton has a whole lot of past to confront. And a whole lot of surface to handle. And not too many friends to help him cope with it all, if he's being honest.He needs someone to help him struggle with the awesome responsibility of being a star in the current huge world, but it seems like there's no one…





	1. Super Scary Skeleton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaand here's some introductions! Meet Mettaton, a slightly damaged trash can, and Papyrus, who is very excited and absolutely trying his best to not actually cry out of sheer feels!

Mettaton loved coffee shops. He loved the dull chatter of humans that floated through the air and he loved the heady scent of coffee that had never existed back underground. He simply adored the music they played, and the way the coffee mugs fit between his fingers, and he particularly loved the wifi and the abundance of charging ports. He loved Instagram, and Snapchat and Tumblr and even the Undernet had quite a healthy user base! It was a nice way to keep in touch with some of his original fans, and even some of his friends.

Alas, Alphys had not yet made the transition over from the Undernet, but he knew that she would adore Tumblr. Just needed to be convinced, that's all.

He took a sip of the chai latte he was cradling, and thanked Alphys somewhere in the back of his mind. No ghost, corporeal or otherwise, had ever been able to eat anything other than ghost food, and it was honestly pathetic. He wasn't sure how he would have lived off ghost food alone, it was so limited.

Of course, physical food was still far too much for him. No, he could only eat monster food like any other monster. Alphys had explained it to him once, that the physical matter would have nowhere to go in a magical body and…

Eh, science wasn't his strong point, and biology had never been her's, so it didn't surprise him that he didn't understand the intricacies of why human food would be bad for him.

He guessed it was lucky that so many monsters were so invested in the service industry, and set up so many businesses. Sitting in Muffet's Parlor, he could almost be back underground, if not for the humans sitting in comfy purple armchairs around him, and the cars whizzing around outside the window. And the rain.

Judging by the way the humans hunched themselves over, and dived into Muffet's little coffee shop, they were none too fond of the rain. Monsters, meanwhile, were more thrilled by it. Mettaton followed the profile of one such monster; he languished in the rain, taking long, slow strides through the crowd, his face turned up to the sky, allowing the drops to fall upon him. Novelty and symbolism were powerful for the monsters, and the weather sure was a symbolic novelty.

Puns were a close third on monster priorities though, of course.

Mettaton took another sip of his coffee, and savored the sweet, spicy flavor. There was nothing like that underground, that was for sure.

He found the profile of the monster again, and noticed he was making his way to Muffet's Parlor. Now, Mettaton was a nosy monster, and had started his tumultuous career with journalism. Back underground, there was basically no news, so he really would make stories on the kinds of food and drink people were buying, and why, and what they thought of them. So when he carried on watching to see what the monster would order, it didn't even feel strange to him. 

It helped that he wore a nice mustard colored jumper and grey jeans, and a huge oversized scarf. Fashionable… pretty cute.

And suddenly, as is always what happens when one stares, Mettaton was caught. In that moment, he recognized the monster as a skeleton type, wondered if he'd ever met him before. He also noticed that the monster seemed to panic, flush, and giggle at the exact same time. Which always meant one thing- a fan.

He'd started avoiding them when he first got diagnosed with NPD. He never even realized he… was ill, and had started seeking counselling for the depressions he felt when people seemed to reject him and not want to spend time around him.

It was also for the terrible nightmares that plagued him. They were unrelenting, and his therapist suggested that it was maybe some manifestation of his insecurities, and those were based off the huge expectations of fans.

So he hadn't interacted personally with a fan for almost a year.

And here was a fan.

There was a Blook family phrase for that, and it went a little something like.

"Ohhhh…......... noooooooo..................................."

But he got off lightly- the monster turned on his heel and quickly strode out of there.

Actually, Mettaton would have said he ran.

One look at Mettaton, and the poor dude ran away.

He opened up his journal, and wrote down what happened. This was a perfect way to measure how far he'd come along- it was an outright rejection that, a mere year ago would have sent him in a full tilt depression. He would want to lie in bed for a very long time, and then go meet an awful load of fans that would treat him in the way he'd expect. This would have pushed him six feet deeper into this… silliness.

Instead, as he wrote down in his journal, he felt kinda empty. He'd hoped he could say he felt like he could carry on with his day, and brush off the encounter like a- like a normal person. But that wasn't true. He felt like shit actually.

Even though he didn't want the fan to approach him either- in fact, he was the one that wanted to run away, but he also wanted that rush of adoration before he did.

He sighed, and carded his fingers through his hair. That wasn't progress. That wasn't what his therapist would want to hear. Hell, it wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was the truth, and he wasn't going to get anywhere without it. And it would at least give him something to talk about. 

He finished up his notes on the small experience and the impact it had upon him, before resuming his drink. He wanted to just get up and go already, but he was already early. He always came early, so that he could sit and reflect and think about what he wanted to say and what he felt like, and make notes. He kept a journal throughout the month, but this was a time to go over it and really think.

He didn't want to do much more thinking, actually, he started to feel antsy. His eyes flicked to Muffet, who was very busy serving some of the humans who came by. Did she know? Did she see the encounter and know what it meant? Did she think he was ridiculous?

He didn't actually feel a chill go through him, how could he, but he certainly felt this lurching feeling in his soul. He took a very deep breath and went to the back pages of his journal and started to doodle. Big, calming spirals. A nice temporary way to keep himself together.

In fact, he'd just gotten himself together when- there he was.

The monster was back through the door, and was already heading towards him.

Mettaton felt panic, deep panic. What would happen, what did the other monster want, what did he expect, in what new way was this going to hurt him-

"Is this seat taken?" The monster asked, cheerfully.

Mettaton made eyes with one of the mirrors across the hall. Disheveled, hunched over and tense, Mettaton did not look approachable.

But he was being approached.

"Not at all, darling." He mumbled. 

Wasn't how he usually spoke.

Good.

The other monster's eyes lit up, and sat down in the armchair next to him. There was a decent amount of space between them, but probably not enough to avoid the way Mettaton rattled slightly.

Oh god.

"You… uh… you look really great!" The other monster offered, seeming nervous but confident in the idea that people liked him and would want to be talked to.

Mettaton blanched initially, then thought about what had been said. It was just a compliment. As long as he didn't do anything stupid like pin all his self-worth on it, or judge anything about the monster before him, he'd be fine.

"Why thank you.. So do you, by the way! I love your jumper!" Mettaton smiled, genuinely, and the other monster looked really pleased. He'd… done something right? He thought? 

"What's your name by the way?"

"PAPYRUS, IT'S REALLY GREAT TO MEET YOU! AND THANK YOU, ABOUT THE JUMPER! IT'S JUST GORGEOUS, DON'T YOU THINK?" He shouted, before receiving a few dirty looks from the humans and Muffet. He fixed his eyes to the table and fidgeted with a loose thread in his scarf.

Mettaton giggled, because, awwh heck that's endearing. He hated that humans were so sensitive to the different voice types in monsters… too loud, too electronic, too quiet, grammatically incorrect- it was his worst thing to hear in a hushed voice when they thought he was out of earshot. 

They didn't realize that a monster's voice is an extension of who they are.

"It must be difficult to keep that kinda voice type under control, huh?" 

And then his gut dropped because Papyrus looked horrified and embarrassed.

"sorry" he muttered, quietly, threading his skeletal fingers together.

"No, I'm sorry, that didn't come out right!" He started bouncing on his heels under the table. 

"You're, um, very different to- sorry, that was rude-" 

"Eh, I prefer to think that the me from down there is different to me now… make any sense?"

And Papyrus was nodding his head enthusiastically, with zero comprehension in his eyes, and Mettaton smiled. He was sweet.

"Where've you settled up here then, beautiful?"

It was amazing how skeletons could blush. Honestly, Mettaton didn't even think of it, he called everyone some variation of darling or beautiful, but he decided he would have to remember the effect it had on people.

"Ahaha- uh, me and Sans, my brother, we live like, an hour’s drive up from here? We're in the new town, New New Home? Asgore's the mayor there… if you couldn't tell!" He laughed, and then looked up to see what Mettaton thought of his little joke, and Mettaton laughed and nodded.

"You'd think he'd learn to let someone else name things…"

"Well he at least allowed me to advise him on the slogan!"

"Yeah?" Mettaton leaned in and sipped his drink. Papyrus seemed to squirm under his gaze, so he switched to looking at his shoes under the table. 

They were light up sneakers.

They were cool as balls.

"New New Home- Home of the Hedge In The Shape Of Papyrus' Smile!"

Mettaton laughed into his drink, and Papyrus glowed.

"Is that really-"

Papyrus pulled out his phone, and showed him the photo he took of the sign. 'New New Home- Home of the Hedge in The Shape Of Papyrus' Smile."

Papyrus was flexing in front of it.

The photo was his background image on Papyrus' lock screen.

"That really is what it says. Absolutely gorgeous."

"Well, I am in the photo!"

"You certainly are!" Mettaton agreed cheerfully. He noticed that Papyrus's armchair had shuffled slightly closer, to show him the photo. He wasn't uncomfortable… he just noticed.

"Is there really a hedge?" He asked.

Papyrus smiled at him, and unlocked his phone to show Mettaton his home screen image of a ten foot tall hedge that, as promised, was shaped in Papyrus' face. Asgore stood next to it, proudly wielding a pair of secateurs. 

"No way! That's… actually really impressive!" 

"Nyeh heh heh, I sure think so! I, uh, actually can't believe he did that…"

There was a comfortable silence, and Mettaton sipped at the last half of his coffee. Then he noticed that Papyrus didn't have a drink.

"Darling, can I buy you a drink?"

The skeleton started, and then he smiled.

"That's um, really kind, but- I think I ought to turn you down. But I've uh, never been here before! What do you think is good?"

And Mettaton just kind of lit up.

"Well, I think it all depends on the kind of mood you're in! An ice tea, or something fruity like that is always good for when you're in a good mood, and if you're feeling a bit blue, then I'd recommend the hot chocolate here, it is simply divine! But a caramel macchiato is great for when you're feeling cheerful, and an Americano is good for when you're feeling serious…"

"Um… I'm always feeling great! So what's the greatest drink?" 

Mettaton narrowed his eyes in thought. What did he drink when he needed to feel great?

"I'd recommend the chai latte, if you like sweet, un-coffee coffee? It's… actually a tea, I think?"

"What's a tea doing in a coffee shop? That's a bit silly!"

"Ahuhu~ dearie. It's a parlor, not a coffee shop!" 

And then she fixed him with a piercing, eight eyed glare that was a clear threat.

And like a kid that didn't get caught, Mettaton smirked at Papyrus, who, like the kid that did get caught, pouted back.

"If you give me the money, should I order for you?"

"Thanks… I don't think she likes me much!"

He handed Mettaton a few G, and their fingertips brushed together. Papyrus, again, blushed deeply.

"Don't worry, darling." He fixed him with a toothy grin. "She doesn't like anyone."

He turned away and walked towards the queue, and Papyrus breathed out. Then, he started texting Undyne a whole load of "HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE IT"

Mettaton returned with a pair of chai lattes. He still had an hour to kill before his appointment, so he thought, why not? It was time to be sociable!

"So what's New New Home like?"

"Nyeh heh heh, no one really calls it that! We're a bit of a tourist attraction, so everyone just calls it Monstertown. It's nice! We're near the beach, and there's loads of great highways to drive down, and the beach is so much fun!"

"Yikes, sounds like a complete death trap!"

"No, you need more spikes for a death trap." And it was the sincere musing that made Mettaton laugh. 

"Reminds me of this film I saw once, way back when I was a kid… man, I used to love spikes and death traps!" 

And Papyrus made some kind of agreeing gestures, "did you ever see, um, you know! When there was that whole dump of films? They were just a bunch of unlabeled VHS tapes, and some crazy kid had a VHS player and they were all these crazy horror films-"

"I was that crazy kid!! It was like every kid in the underground was at my place! Man, I had to have been thirteen, fourteen back then!"

He'd forgotten all about that night. Poor Blooky had huddled in the corner crying the whole night, and Mettaton had called him a baby! He smiled, and tried to remember if he saw any skeletons there.

"Nyeh heh heh, I remember I convinced Sans to let me go- but wasn't sure if I was invited, so I made a real written down invitation, so he thought we were friends!"

Mettaton laughed! He remembered the kind of kid he was, and it certainly wasn't a paper invite kind!

"How old were you then?"

"I think about… eleven? God, how'd I watch all those horror films?"

And internally, Mettaton reveled! There was only a short age gap of a few years! With monster lifespans and species being what they are, dating can be dangerous… you could end up flirting with an old man!!

"Kids love bloodshed and drama… and spikes."

And Papyrus giggled. Frankly, in the space of an half an hour conversation, Mettaton had went from liking his clothes to liking the guy. He'd go home and tell Alphys all about this.

"So what brings you to the city?" Mettaton asked casually. It was only when he saw Papyrus fidget that he realized he may have miss-stepped.

"Oh, just, um, shopping! And…" He fixed Mettaton with a look of pure discomfort, and seemed to weigh something up in his mind. "And I had a therapist change over? They've assigned me a new one, and I know that she's in a GP here, but I don't know… where exactly." 

He looked pensive for a moment. "I saw Muffet's, and I know how we tend to stick together up here, and she'd bound to know, or know someone who does? I wasn't actually gonna order something, but I TOTALLY WOULD HAVE DONATED!" He shouted, for Muffet's benefit.

"Oh, yeah, I have an appointment at 2:00! If you have Dr Abuanza, she's super lovely, nothing to worry about there! And it's only around the block! You can come with me, if you like?"

"REALLY? THANK YOU-"

He caught himself and sighed. Mettaton scowled at some of the people around him. He liked Papyrus' voice.

"It's, super kind of you! But she's not my therapist, um, do you know- god, I can't remember her name! It was written down on the letter…"

"Oh, don't worry about that, beauty! She'll come to meet you at the appointment! Speaking of which-" He checked his watch, and swigged the rest of his latte. "We'd better go!"

He took Papyrus by the hand, and, after letting him drink the last sips of his latte, fled the coffee shop with a dramatic flair that Mettaton hadn't indulged in for a long time.

He kept holding Papyrus's hand, mainly because of the way he seemed enraptured by every tall building and expensive car they passed. He didn't want him to get lost…

"THIS PLACE IS AMAZING! THE NEXT TIME I COME DOWN HERE, I'M TAKING A TOUR!"

"Ah, they're overpriced, and they don't really know this city. Darling, if you want to know Westerlyn you should just visit me!" He didn't flirt as effectively when he had to shout over cars, but he sure did know Westerlyn. He'd lived here since they'd arrived on the surface, and he felt so at home between the glass and neon lights. The skyscrapers and the roar of traffic, the din of machines… it was like the place was made for him.

"OH, I USED TO DO TOURS OF NEW NEW HOME, BUT THERE WAS NO WHERE NEAR AS MUCH TO TALK ABOUT AS THERE IS HERE!"  
He looked around the busy streets with the same kind of star struck wonder that Mettaton felt, walking around his town. He loved it. He loved to see it. 

He pulled Papyrus into the GP's room. It was the shortest building in sight, and the only one that wasn't made from that beautiful chrome and glass plating. It didn't shimmer like the other buildings.

The waiting room was cramped, filled with rickety metal chairs with off-color upholstery and no other monsters. The walls were painted some kind of in-offensive off white-ish yellow, and posters advertising flu jabs and new drugs lined the walls. They were peeling off like sad plants. A silence fell upon them, punctuated only by a few coughs. Mettaton sat back, and checked over his journal, while Papyrus played with his phone. Mettaton stopped turning the pages, and watched Papyrus; his leg bounced and he was gripping his phone tightly, sitting forward in his seat.

"If your nervous, can I just say that everyone here is really nice… and you'll do fine!"

"Hah… me, nervous… I don't think I've ever been nervous in my life! But thank you anyway…" he seemed like he wanted to add something else, but continued to tap furiously at his phone.

"That's great to hear, darling! Have my number, so you can let me know how it went on!" Also, Mettaton forgot how nice it was to meet new people, and he hadn't had such a nice and friendly conversation in a very long time. There were no underhand motives or secret desires that pulled at the conversation.

"Oh!" He seemed genuinely surprised. Or maybe shocked? Did he come off to strong? He'd said darling again, hadn't he… "that'd be great! It'll be cool… for you to have a cool friend out in the country, if you ever want to visit! Let me give you my number, so you can call if you want to swing by!"

And Mettaton giggled, and Papyrus tapped his number into Mettaton's phone, and Mettaton promised to text him so Papyrus could save his number so he'd know it wasn't just some weirdo. There was a brief conversation about how Papyrus once tried to just call every number until he got to the right one for some other friend he met, except he'd underestimated how many numbers there were on the surface. "It's like there's more everything up here" he trailed off, dreamily.

And then, all of a sudden, it was time for Mettaton's appointment, and he shook hands with Papyrus, and then he was packing up his books and walking down the corridor.

He had so much to say.

It was only a short walk, and he took a deep breath. Then let it out, and walked in.


	2. Therapy Session- START

It was a raw 75 minutes for him.  
He'd talked through his emotions in the month, which had been pretty all over the place, really. He'd hung out with Alphys, but because of her job, he hadn't been able to see her again for ages, and it made him feel a little rejected and he'd even started to worry that she purposely put him off because he was just too clingy and sought too much attention. He coped with it by texting her daily, and reminding himself that her work really was just highly consuming, and then of course she needed to spend a lot of her downtime with her girlfriend.  
He did still feel rejected, but he'd finally given in to his therapist by starting to meditate, and he would just make the most of their time together when he could, instead of wasting a day together by worrying about whether or not he was the reason why Alphys didn't want to see him that often.  
He'd also started to feel low because he wasn't really contributing to society, so he'd tried out volunteering at the after school theatre club in Frisk's school. And he'd really, really enjoyed it, especially as "theatre" was totally just some form of teaching confidence to the kids. It was all simple stuff, throwing your voice, stranding tall, breathing right, and then having a bit of fun with that. It was a dodle really, and the kids had fun, so when Toriel was so impressed, Mettaton couldn't say he understood; confidence was just something he was more than willing and able to teach. But she'd said that he'd got kids that had never put their hands up to speak to shout in front of the whole class. So that was really reaffirming. His therapist suggested carrying that on, especially as it was a worthwhile achievement, and an activity that could raise his self esteem in a positive way.  
He talked about the offer he had from the human company, Buzzfeed. Apparently they'd reached out to a few celebrities with an idea for a video on what happens when you give celebrities a YouTube account for a week. They'd asked him to produce seven three minute videos for their video, and they'd edit them in a kind of compilation.  
He quite liked the idea, but he could already feel his competitive streak coming through, even though it wasn't a competition. And he wasn't sure if he was ready for real interaction with the media again. He was more Instagram famous than anything these days, posting selfies and a few posts…  
He voiced his concern, but his therapist suggested that there was a reason why was thinking about it, and there wasn't anything inherently wrong with fame. He was just so scared… he'd come so far, and he was scared that something as small as a three minute video would throw him full tilt into old ways. She reminded him of the coping strategies he'd figured out over the last year.  
He did have a lot of coping strategies, like making a quick note of any time he lied to make himself seem important, or inflated his achievements beyond their worth, or made someone feel small. He'd been doing it less frequently, and found that going back and apologising and telling the truth to the people around him was the best strategy for staying in control of himself. He kept going over what his motivations were for interacting with people in the way he did, and if he found those motivations to be "building a happier relationship", then he could carry on. He started meditating, and excersising and writing scripts of films, line by line, and drinking nice tea. He had hundreds of coping strategies.  
He told her he'd go to the interview, and she suggested that he prepare for rejection, but also prepare for success.  
Then he told her all about meeting Papyrus by chance, and the kind of roller coaster that had been, and she warned him not to become infatuated, even on a platonic level, with him. But she did suggest continuing to meet with new people, and maybe forming some kind of relationship with Papyrus could help ease him into taking a more active role in society. Meeting up with friends, having friends over, going to friends' places could all make massive improvements to his life by offering him genuine emotional support and taking him out of his routine.  
He nodded, and looked at her with some kind of watery hope. He really… he didn't notice how much he wanted that.  
She asked him if he was lonely, and Mettaton laughed.  
He lived alone, he had one friend with an incredibly high pressure and low downtime job, and he didn't actually ever leave his flat because he didn't have a real job. His only family was Napstablook, and after Mettaton had his breakdown and left the band, he hadn't seen or heard from them since.  
Of course he was fricking lonely.  
She told him to maybe take that job, and to maybe carry on volunteering at the school, and to maybe start physically leaving the house to buy food instead of ordering online, and he told her that maybe he wasn't ready for a job, maybe it'd put him back to square one, and maybe he wouldn't even notice because he'd probably be happier.  
And then they both knew he was making it up.  
She asked him why he didn't really want to go outside.  
It was the combined fear of meeting a fan, someone who not only knew of the kind of person he'd been before, but adored that person. He was scared that he'd become that person again for them. And then it was- the surface was huge. Existential crises style huge to him. He could walk for days and not really be anywhere different. You could walk for about forty minutes and have passed through four different climate zones back underground.  
She told him the latter was common to monsters, and many suffered panic attacks as a result of that absolute magnitude. She suggested that city living was where the largeness of human life was most exaggerated, and maybe moving out of the flat, and into the countryside?  
He stopped her there. He really liked living in the city, and it was seeing all the forests, and mountains that made his legs shake and want to use curl up in a ball. The night sky scared him no end, and in the city, all the lights blocked all that impossible void out.  
She suggested that maybe getting out of his comfort zone, but in controlled doses may help him come to terms with the vastness he was faced with. She offered him medication for if he felt a huge panic attack coming on, as one panic attack could lead to a full blown phobia.  
He reminded her that monsters just couldn't consume physical stuff, and unless there were any monster pills…  
She shook her head.  
She asked him how much he thought about his thoughts, and he proudly told her "all the time!" She asked him how often he praised himself for recognizing unhealthy thoughts, or even putting names to the feelings, or for feeling something he shouldn't and not giving in.  
He didn't even realize he was meant to do that. She told him it was a huge part of the self-discipline he was trying to learn.  
Mettaton apologized. She asked him why, and he explained that he felt like whenever he didn't do something right, or move forward, he was wasting her time. She congratulated him for having such a nuanced understanding of himself, and even though he felt bad, he felt good too, and that scared the shit out of him and he didn't know why.  
That was the first 45 minutes, anyway. That part was painless enough, really. Comparatively.  
It was the nightmares which were always the more emotional side for him to cope with. They discussed them in the last half an hour, after he'd talked about everything else. It helped him because he knew he wouldn't be able to go straight into talking about the nightmares, he needed to start mundane, and then work himself up to talking about the more distressing parts of his life.  
He kept a separate diary for the nightmares, and kept it on the night stand next to his bed. It was incredibly fluffy and pastel pink. He remembered buying it in an arts and crafts store in a section that he was sure was for children. But he liked it specifically for its non-threatening appearance. He liked holding the book in his hands, and he liked the sensation of the light fluff against his fingers. He found it grounding, and it was something to hold onto when he had to think about-  
He'd taken a rattling breath before talking about the one he'd had last night.  
He always wrote the nightmares in short bullet points, and always explained them in bullet points. He couldn't write in prose about the visceral feeling, the rattling in his infrastructure, and the images that flashed behind his eyes.  
Because then he'd feel it.  
The last one had been real. A flashback. He knew it was definitely a real one because in his dream, he'd been stuck in that hideous cramped little metal contraption Alphys had convinced him to inhabit. And it was definitely a real event, it had happened five years ago, but it had still happened. Alphys remembered finding him in a ditch in the trash heaps of Waterfall.  
It hadn't been just a dream last night.  
He'd been back underground, and it had been some time after the shock of being corporeal had sunk in and given way to… something else. naturally, his feelings were mixed, because while this was so far away from the body he had wanted, there was certainly a joy to physical presence, to being real, to being alive! To being able to feel the warm air passing through Hotland, smell the flowers in New Home, feel the water against his fingertips in Waterfall… it was magnificent. In some ways, he even thought he could settle for it…  
Until he'd seen Flowey. Flowey was his number one best friend. They'd met when Mettaton had been hanging out in the Trash Heaps before, and Flowey'd just started being so nice to him. He told him how sad he felt about everything, about his body, about Blooky, and how much he wanted to be a star, and Flowey'd told him how he could make him a star. He'd train him to be exactly what the camera wanted to see.  
They'd only been friends for a few weeks, but Mettaton had never had a friend like him before. He didn't want him to go, because he made him laugh. He was scared of boring him, about not being fun enough for Flowey, especially when he said some things that Mettaton wasn't sure about. Mettaton wanted to do a cooking show, and Flowey wanted to put terrible villains for Mettaton to decapitate. Mettaton wanted to do a news report, Flowey wanted to fill it with explosions. Mettaton wanted to televise classical human literature, Flowey wanted it to end in a massacre.  
To be fair, the play did end in a massacre. But Mettaton wanted to lighten up the ending.  
It was starting to occur to Mettaton that Flowey was a little strange. He was funny, and his jokes were funny, and even his ideas for TV shows were funny, and Mettaton even liked hanging out with him. But he didn't love that Flowey would always show up quite… out of the blue. But when Mettaton wanted to find him, he was nowhere to be seen. It was completely up to Flowey when they could hang out, and Mettaton could be doing anything- he hadn't tried telling Flowey he was busy so couldn't chat, but he felt this horrible sick feeling within him when he thought about lying, and something would whisper that he was being a baby, and that's just friends, and he was being disappointing.  
So to avoid having to actually confront Flowey, Mettaton simply started to hang out in Hotland more as he was pretty sure Flowey couldn't just pop up there. At least, he'd never seen him do it. But Alphys wanted to meet in Waterfall. Apparently she was gonna go talk to Undyne, and knowing the huge crush she had on her, Mettaton wasn't going to miss giving her that pep-talk and catching up with how doomed she was after. He'd been in Hotland for so long he'd started to forget about Flowey.  
He'd been standing wheel deep in water waiting for Alphys for about five minutes, staring up at the rocky ceiling above, when suddenly Flowey had sprung up.  
"Howdy!"  
He grinned and looked up at Mettaton, and Mettaton felt sick.  
"Fl-owey… it's so great to see you!"  
"Good to see you too, friend! It seems like I haven't seen you in agessss!" He drawled.  
Mettaton felt cold, and trapped by the shallow water.  
"Awwh c'mon Hapstablook, you're not avoiding me, are you?"  
Mettaton shivered.  
"Flowey… I don't know if I like that name anymore. I'm not a ghost, and every ghost changes their name when they become corporeal. It's tradition."  
Flowey looked shocked, and then confused, and then wickedly delighted.  
"What do you mean, corporeal?"  
'Fuck' Mettaton thought. He'd told Flowey that he was only possessing this crate, and that he was gonna have his Ex body any day now.  
Mettaton stayed silent. He loved one thing about his fucking stupid calculator face, and that was it gave nothing away. No one could see the panic that was welling up in him like a flood.  
"Hapsta. You haven't been lying to me?"  
Mettaton jumped back just as Flowey lunged forward. Flowey's face was twisted with this sick, sadistic grin, and inches away from the delicate glass screen that was Mettaton's face. He was so glad he didn't have to breath.  
"That's not my name," he whispered.  
"Well what is it then?" Flowey taunted. He had such a mocking voice. Of course, Mettaton had heard it before, being Flowey's best friend and all. He just cringed every time, because he knew he was going to be in for a new argument. And something new to loath about himself.  
He wanted to stand up for himself; he was in for it already, and maybe a friendly argument could clear the air a little. They could both voice their opinions! And what better way to start afresh than to introduce himself as the real him?  
"M- Mettaton. It's my new name and I… I think it sounds pretty glamorous." Mettaton hated himself for stuttering.  
He saw coils of thick vine slip and dance from the beneath the still water, surrounding him. Like dark sharks made from thorn, but Mettaton felt frozen. This was nothing good. This was new.  
He'd been in for it before, but suddenly the nature of the game he was trapped in was all different. He'd went from playing catch to Russian roulette without any warning.  
"Glamorous? Hapstablook's a way cooler name! Much cooler than Mettaton! Mettaton is some kind of idiot's name! You sound stupid!"  
A vine lashed out at Mettaton's wheel, and he felt the metal snap easily. He screamed, with shock and with the throbbing agony. He'd never felt anything like that before. His scream came out wrong, he realized in the second after, he realized it had been electrified and sounded like a high pitch whine. He wanted to catch his breath, but he had no lungs. He wanted to be sick but he had no mouth.  
"You even sound stupid! You've always sounded stupid, and looked stupid! You're such an idiot!" A vine came thrashing down, and Mettaton rolled away. Another caught him by the arm, and dragged him back before Flowey, who loomed above him like a whole empire. The flower had become a sprawling, seething mass of thorns and stems and branches, and suddenly, Mettaton was pinned down.  
He felt like a prisoner. He felt his soul beating, and unbidden, he felt a whimper form somewhere in his mind. Small waves lapped against his casing, and he knew that a leak could be dangerous and he didn't know what would happen if his machinery failed him… would he die?  
"I'm sorry!" He yelled, desperate to appeal to some kind of sanity. "You're my best friend, I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was corporeal, I should have told you first, and I'm really really sorry!"  
Flowey looked gleeful for a moment, but there wasn't even a hint of the friendly flower he'd been.  
The universe lurched into black and white, and Mettaton realized he was in a FIGHT.  
He wanted to pass out. He was still, inexplicably, physics defyingly, still pinned down. He couldn't fight like this, and he hadn't checked his stats yet, and Flowey was coalescing a tight ring of bullets.  
"You're a useless friend. You only ever talk about your boring dreams, and your boring cousin, and your boring friend. I thought you were gonna at least end up being a cool fighting robot, but you just look… stupid. And you’re stuck like this now, all boring!"  
He swayed gently, side to side, like a snake, while he spat out words that cut deeper than anything Mettaton had ever felt before. They'd always tried to let him down gently when they said he was just a bit dull. No one had ever been so mean to him before, and he could only stay quiet, as if spellbound and stare at the ring of bullets, spinning lazily. They encircled his SOUL, and Mettaton felt as if he were waiting.  
*Feels like an execution.  
"Die."  
And the bullets hit. It was a wave of pain that moved through his SOUL and extended outwards. Then he felt his HP tick down. A direct hit to the SOUL by multiple bullets at once… he was going to die. He was certain.  
He didn't.  
He checked himself. ATK - 10 DEF - 999  
He was amazed. And now it was his turn.  
And he looked back up at Flowey, and the vines had cleared and retracted, and he was so very, very small. He looked terrified. He was looking up at him with these huge doe eyes that… weren't his?  
And confused.  
Flowey's face was different, and his eyes were filled with tears. Mettaton recognized it… from somewhere?  
*Reminds you of lost monsters and missing princes.  
Compassion burned within him.  
*Mettaton spared Flowey.  
The battle was over, and Mettaton felt so relieved.  
Then the vines were back, everywhere, choking and squeezing and pushing into him.  
"What?" He tried to scream, or whisper or think.  
"You really are an idiot!"  
The last thing he saw before his vision was choked by dark green leaves and thorns was the face of… evil. There were so many teeth, and his eyes seemed alive with malice.  
He felt metal bend and dent, he could hear his own body creak and strain. He felt vines press into his plexiglass faceplate and screamed, as loud as his electric voice could let him.  
"nononononono- STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!"  
It shattered. With a pop, his led eyelights burst. Flowey experienced a mild electric shock.  
Mettaton howled, and started convulsing and yelling gibberish.  
"You should always kill your enemies while you have the chance, yes? Always! What did I just say, Hapstablook?"  
The world was dark, and Mettaton felt gentle breezes against exposed, frayed wire and it hurt. He wanted to bring his hands to his face but they were still pinned down. He started to jerk within the grasp he was caught in, but just felt a greater and greater force press down on him.  
Sound distorted, but Mettaton was aware that Flowey repeated the question. He sounded livid. There were so many echoes and static seemed to be closing in around him.  
Mettaton made some kind of noise, but that wasn't good enough, and he knew it. He tried again, but didn't do any better, and felt a pressure on the lower half of his left arm begin to build.  
"Kill my enemies- when you have the cha-" He broke off into yelling again, but it seemed to be enough for Flowey. The pressure subsided.  
"And have we learned something today, stupid?"  
Mettaton shrieked out that they had indeed learned lots and lots. The vines from his torso region retracted and the pressure started to lift.  
"What did we learn today, Hapstablook?"  
It was too hard to form words, let alone try and think about what Flowey wanted to hear. He flailed in the void of his mind for too long, apparently, and Flowey picked him up and shoved him hard against the floor.  
"Come on, dumb dumb, I don't have all day! Just tell me what you learned!"  
Mettaton said some words, but they weren't the right ones. They were just any words. He was getting corrupted, and he was terrified and he couldn't think and he couldn't see.  
"You had a way out, Haps. At least taking you apart will be something to do."  
And Mettaton couldn't even plead with him not to. After all, he should have just spoken up.  
Swords of thorn went through him like butter, and at first, Mettaton felt it all with the kind of intensity of a panicking body registering damage and trying to get the demented owner of said body to move out of danger. But after the third stab, Mettaton suddenly felt as though his brain had switched off, as abruptly as a light switch. It hurt, but he was suddenly far away from it all.  
And then, seemingly our of boredom, Flowey tore him in two like a sheet of paper.  
It hurt, it hurt like being thrown into the sun, everything burned, blistered, evaporated and Mettaton felt every single inch of it, but only for a second and then he just felt some connection sever.  
He'd passed out.  
He was lying across the different sides of the same room, wiring was spilled everywhere, and he was completely unconscious. But his SOUL, somehow, had remained. He'd stayed alive.  
Alive enough for Alphys to find him five minutes later, cancel with Undyne and rush back to the lab to fix him.  
She'd never asked what happened, and at the time Mettaton was so glad that she didn't. He wouldn't have to explain. He wouldn't have to snitch on his best friend, and he didn't want to make Flowey angry after that had just happened.  
When he'd woken up from that dream, Mettaton called Alphys. He'd also cried a lot down the phone, and she'd cried too. She thought she'd wired him up wrongly and he'd fucking exploded, and she'd thought she'd done that to him. She'd never guessed that something else was even capable of something like that.  
And then of course, he had to tell her all of it.  
And after that, the first thing she'd done was tell him to tell his therapist.  
He didn't want to. So he just told her that dream.  
The first thing she did; suggest getting a referral to a PTSD Specialist Therapist.  
He'd refused point blank. He wasn't ready to talk about it yet. And although he didn't say it, it wasn't as if he wanted people digging through his past. It was what he liked about the counselling- it talked to him about moving forward. Thinking back would… disturb ghosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this comes out as respectful, if not realistic, as I have not personally attended therapy! If there are any criticisms, please do give them to me in the comments, and I'll try and change things! I hope you enjoy!!


	3. Weeb Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inching... Slowly closer... To each other....

Mettaton took the subway back home. He lived on the other side of town, and wasn't up for the walk all the way back. It was getting cold, and the human stalls were all setting up for Christmas. Last year, he'd been curious and thrown a huge party and bought everyone huge and extravagant presents. He'd aired it on the tv, and Blooky was putting out Christmas remixes on the radio. He missed Blooky, and that was all he missed about last year. But he'd live.  
He did want to buy a little something for Alphys, one of these cute Pop Animations that he'd seen. Or maybe tickets to the next comic con? But then she'd have to book time off work, and that'd be a pain for her.  
The Pop Animation then. But on another day. He just wanted to go to bed. He knew it was only half three, but he was tired.  
He started tapping out an email of acceptance on his laptop about accepting Buzzfeed's offer, and he was feeling pretty excited about that. He hadn't done anything public in nearly a year and he was mainly amazed that anyone still remembered who he was. He knew what it was like to be an actor, and it was not a world with sentiments. It was usually too ruthless for monsters, made of compassion and kindness.  
Good thing he wasn't completely like that. Flowey had been right about a few things.  
But maybe working with on Youtube on his own in his own home would be a lighter environment.  
He looked back over the idea proposed. It was nothing too advanced, and he certainly knew how to edit. Just needed short ideas, and of course his first video would have to be on him. Maybe the other one could be a day in the life? He'd research other youtubers when he went home.  
They'd said they'd discuss most of the important details in person, or at least over a Skype chat, so Mettaton started thinking about the questions he would want to ask.  
It'd be exciting! He may not actually end up being a YouTube poster boy, but it was something new, and deliciously human! Of course he still had a little fixation, what with his roots as a ghost and all… Maybe he'd talk about what he might have been like when alive. Yes, he quite liked that idea, and noted it down on his phone.  
He sent the email before he got off the little subway, and made his way through the busy subway station, and then up through the city. Then it was just a short dive into his block of flats, and a brisk walk to the elevator and he already had his keys in his hands-  
He was so ready for a nice bath, with some fancy kind of bath bomb, and just switching off from reality. He thanked Alphys again for making him entirely waterproof.  
His phone charmed. He checked it.  
It was Papyrus.  
He opened the message in the elevator, and smiled.  
"HEY HOW'D IT GO FOR YOU? IT WAS OKAY FOR ME, AND MY T WAS SO COOL! STILL DON'T KNOW HER NAME!"  
He was about to respond when another message came through.  
"HE THINKS YOUR HOT ;)"  
"THAT WASN'T ME THAT WAS UNDYNE AHAHA"  
He laughed out loud, and opened the door to his flat. He kicked his heels off and recieved another text.  
"DIDN'T SAY YOU'RE NOT HOT THO DAMN"  
Mettaton blushed, and yet another text alarm went off.  
"DAMMIT UNDYNE THIS IS NOT A GROUP CHAT. ALSO STOP SENDING HIM THIS STUFF! >:("  
"Maybe text me when Undyne isn't around? But today was fine, and I'm glad your T's nice! Have a nice time with Undyne! :)"  
He hoped that didn't sound too formal. He read it again. Oh God it sounded so formal. Christ, poor Papyrus probably thought he hated him at worst, and just thought he was an asshole at best.  
He slammed his front door shut, and went straight through the lounge and into his [one] bedroom. He wriggled out of his clothes, chucked them on the floor with half his wardrobe, and went straight into pajamas.  
He checked his phone. No new messages.  
Well, even if a friendship between him and Papyrus never came into fruition, at least he'd learned that he could socialise and make friends like a normal monster, at least until the actual communication had to start. He started to text Alphys about his crazy day.  
He got no response, and started running the bath.  
She was coming over tomorrow, and she'd want to know all the gossip about this boy. Naturally, they'd stalk the hell out of him, and maybe she'd end up sending him some "BOIO U 2 HAWT 4 ME!!" texts. God knows he'd sent enough to Undyne, but it hadn't exactly been effective at hooking those two up.  
Maybe Mettaton was more (healthily) confident than her though, so maybe he could make it work?  
Now that he'd let himself entertain his imagination, he couldn't stop thinking about YouTube video ideas- he could talk about the cute bath stuff he owned, make up ideas, he could take online personality quizzes…  
He was kinda dizzied by it!  
He quickly jotted down some of his ideas, and then, in his seperate journal for his sessions, wrote a bullet point on how much more positive he felt for taking the job.  
He turned the bath off, threw in a bathbomb and recorded the fizz of pink glitter and bubbles for Instagram.  
He then noticed about 23 notifications on Undernet.  
Seeing as that was his personal site, and none of his thousands of human fans had access to that, he was excited to know what had caused such a stir.  
They were all direct messages from one user, Coolskeleton95.  
There were many photos, that all seemed to be of Undyne and Papyrus wrestling over the phone while Undyne took selfies, and also some keyboard smashing. In between "oH MEttatTON U 2 SEXI FUK" and similar messages.  
He choked on laughter, but didn't know entirely how to respond.  
But oh god, he had his text signatures left on, and he already seemed like an asshole probably.  
What would Alphys tell him to do?  
Send a meme, probably. Or tell him to give the phone to him, and he'd flirt terribly, but it was so much harder when it was your crush instead of your best friend's crush!  
He looked through his camera roll for anything appropriate, and found only funny edits of his posters, aesthetic, selfies with Alphys and-  
Perfect.  
He sent a selfie of when he tried on some incredibly sassy glasses while posing with a Starbucks. He'd even captioned it "judging everyone here".  
He immediately regretted it, what if it came off too… judgemental? Panic set in, which lead to the worst of all choices.  
"Jk not rlly judging u i lv u rlly bby xx <3 :*"  
So over the top text talk was his version of weeb speak, and it was both cringey as hell.  
It was monster courting ritual.  
But those photos were from hours ago. Presumably, Undyne left, or got bored of tormenting Papyrus but either way, there was no way Papyrus would view it immediately.  
Seen 3:42 pm  
Mettaton felt flattererd and a little shy.  
He forgot that he was literally famous.  
He waited five minutes without a reply from Papyrus, before sending a quick "brb bath" and finally allowing himself to relax.  
When he removed himself from the sanctuary of warm pink glittery water, Mettaton discovered quite a few more DMs on Undernet. Of course, all from Coolskeleton95.  
"SORRY, I TOOK FOREVER TO RESPOND, IT WAS JUST THAT MY ENTIRE FAMILY AND EXTENDED GROUP OF FRIENDS ALL WANTED TO TELL ME HOW TO RESPOND. SO HERE'S SOME MESSAGES FROM MY NEAREST AND DEAREST."  
"Dear Mettaton. U R A SECKSY ROBOT FUK DAYAMN DATE MY FRIEND!!!1!1"  
"hey there. you should totally date my bro sometime, or don't because that's fine too."  
"SO THAT'S WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY. TO YOU. I JUST WANTED TO SAY HI."  
"BUT THEY JUST *HAD* TO MAKE IT WEIRD!!"  
"DATE MY GAY SKELETON ASS"  
"THAT WAS UNDYNE AGAIN."  
"skeletons don't have ass, undyne."  
"Sans, *you're* an ass."  
"no i'm not i'm sans"  
"SANS THIS IS NOT A GROUP CHAT. YOU JUST TEXTED THAT TO METTATON. UNDYNE IS IN THE LITERAL ROOM. WE'RE ON THE SAME PHONE. YOU COULD HAVE JUST SAID THAT OUT LOUD."  
"effort"  
"DATE MEH!!!1!1"  
"I DO NOT NEED EITHER OF YOU IN MY LIFE ANYMORE, GET OUT."  
Mettaton giggled. But he had no idea how to respond to any of that.  
Was he meant to be overly nice and polite? His friends and family were watching him…  
Or did he go funny and flirty? He liked to think that was more him, but… Papyrus' friends and family were watching…  
But if he just ignored him that was terrible in every way and absolutely should not be what he do.  
"Ahaha, Did they actually go? 0_0"  
Of course he deleted it and retyped some variation of the same question a hundred times over, but in the end he just went with it. It was an innocent question, surely!  
"Y? DO U WANT TO BE ALONE SXY??!1?"  
"Hi Undyne."  
Dammit, he was still outnumbered. He wondered if Papyrus' brother was still there. It was one thing to flirt in front of the friends, but another to flirt in front of the family…  
"AS IF IT'S NOT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS?"  
"Undyne…?"  
"Dammit. Papyrus he's smarter than the last time I met him!"  
"Vaugely resenting that. I was fabulous the last time we met."  
"WHEN DID YOU TWO ACTUALLY MEET?"  
"Alphys brought me over, and I was a charming guest while Undyne just ignored me in entire. It was very rude."  
"Alphys dragged him over and he just laid seductively on the piano the whole time and fed himself grapes. I didn't even have grapes in the house.."  
"AND WHAT'S THE PROBLEM WITH THAT? ALSO, WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME OVER IF METTATON WAS COMING OVER?!"  
"Undyne, it's not like you were going to feed them to me."  
"Hell no. And for the record, I actually, I didn't know he was coming over, I only knew about Alph, and I was going to make a move on her! I thought she was trying to send a message when she brought this guy!"  
"and for my record, I was incredibly drunk, and Alphys asked me to act sexy so she could figure out if you were attracted to men. The piano was just a perfect opportunity, darling!"  
And there was a very long pause where Mettaton just felt like he must have been too weird. He sighed, and after staring forlornly at his empty message box for another moment, he checked his email.  
There was an email from Buzzfeed saying that he had the job, and that they had some titles for him to work on for each day. Day one was introductions; day two was the present; day three was the future; day four was childhood; day six was love, and day seven was closing thoughts on YouTube.  
While they weren't quite the ideas he'd choose to do, he liked the titles well enough. There was a criteria underneath each one, just a few points that they wanted him to cover in each video. He supposed it was for comparison between the videos, so he could agree to work with it. Besides, it wasn't like he couldn't do cool and unexpected things in his videos, despite the rigidity of his brief and the boring nature of his titles.  
He started digging around in his closet for any recording equipment he kept from his days before he had a camera crew. He'd got interested in journalism first, and then fictional tv captured his imagination when he was fourteen and he'd found loads of horror films and a working VHS tape in the dump. It was an amazing find, and he didn't understand why the humans chucked out such good stuff! Of course, when he got to the surface and found the huge gap between monster technology and human technology, he kinda understood why humans were so wasteful. And hell, back underground they were incredibly grateful for the excessive way that humans lived. Their excess was monster survival.  
Still, it was a little sickening to see all the trash on the human surface. Maybe that could be an idea for the video on future…  
He started jotting down more focused ideas when he got a notification on his phone.  
He left his work and ran over to it only to find that it was from Alphys. Something had come up with work, she was doing a presentation, she couldn't go anywhere tomorrow, but it'd be nice if he could come watch her make a speech on Magical Robotic Science.  
"Need me to be a prop lol"  
"Actually, if that wouldn't be too much, that's a great idea. You're weirdly relevant to all this! ^-^"  
He hadn't been even a little serious, but he found himself asking where he needed to be and at what time and whether or not he should try and prepare a few lines or if he'd need to answer questions.  
The talk was going to be late in the evening though, giving Mettaton ample time to do fuck all when he'd kinda planned a shopping trip. He wasn't dissapointed at all.  
And it wasn't even like he liked Alphys' crowd when he did science stuff with her. They always looked at him like they wanted to take him apart, or figure out the trick behind him, even when he wasn't being presented as a scientific curiosity. This was just when he was picking up Alphys for one of their trips to the mall.  
Maybe after he satisfied their curiosity they'd finally treat him like an actual monster instead of some neat new toy.  
He felt a little bit of a sickness within him when he remembered how similar it might be to when Alphys had to convince Asgore that Mettaton was a robot with a SOUL instead of just a ghost in a robot. He couldn't believe that he thought for a second that Asgore would be happy handing Alphys Royal funding but still let her just tinker about on whatever she wanted. He should have known that she'd be stuck doing sketchy SOUL shit and he'd be stuck in the calculator.  
And then it'd be a stage, and all those eyes on him, and what if it turned out to be a bad situation for him, and he snapped back into that old personality, or had a panic attack over the fear of going back, and then not being able to do any of the things he'd started being able to do… the volunteering, the Buzzfeed assignment… he really wanted progress…   
And progress had only come with pushing himself, so maybe pushing himself this bit further would bring him back to the person he was way before he even had a body.  
That was incentive enough for him. He'd manage. He asked Alphys about the dress code, and she said it would be pretty important and that she was going to wear a dress.  
Semi-causal it was.  
He started work on picking out an outfit from his wardrobe, and settled on a tight pair of dark purple jeans with a distressed and rugged finish that exuded high fashion, a tight black t shirt and a nice, fitted aubergine blazer that shimmered gently under stage lights. He was thinking of a kind of the model off-duty look that he'd heard so much about.  
He'd probably change his mind in the evening, but that would be fine. He also thought about maybe adding a matching bow he had, to slide in his hair. He decided against it though, remembering the problems people seemed to have with understanding that he was a man. That brought him no end of frustration.  
The humans could have quite a pathetic view of gender.  
He wondered about what he could talk about in introductions… go balls out with nb-to-m transgender gay robot with trauma and a whole history of different bodies, or if should he be more subtle.  
Subtle sucked, he was going balls out.  
He started working out a script in his mind while digging through the cupboard, and finding anything but video cameras. He found old shoes that he forgot about, a few old props (chainsaws, jet packs, elegant fighting swords), and, naturally, old diaries.  
That caught his attention- all of these props could be useful in his introduction video! He gathered up his treasure, and pressed record on his phone as a rough draft.  
"Hello YouTube, my name's Mettaton and that's a really weak start, come on darling, get yourself together!" He looked amusedly into the phone camera, and switched it off. He'd never worked off script before, and thought that maybe he'd put a little more effort into writing a good script.  
He looked at one of the diaries, and browsed the pages. He ought to make sure that there wasn't anything particularly disturbing in there.  
As soon as he opened it, he recognised the time period exactly. Before his body. Before even Madstablook had left the snail ranch, and before Mettaton had any ideas in his head about what he wanted from existence.  
His eyes welled up and his heart swelled with a cloying feeling of want. It was simple, and it was horrible, and he'd been so young and fragile and unprotected and it had all gone so wrong and he just wanted to go back and tell himself to be a snail farmer, sometimes. It seemed like that time was drenched in sunlight and exposure and his memories were made of beautiful poloroids, but the truth was that he remembered how much less wonderful it had felt. It was dark underground.  
He read the diary over, and it was filled with pages that screamed over how he didn't feel right, comfortable, happy, and how he was begging for something more from life. It had hurt back then, equal and opposite to how it hurt now. There was years of pages about crying out for a body, but being terrified of the bodies that were on offer. He'd rather not exist than exist like Mad did…  
He slammed the book shut, almost involuntarily.  
He thought about whether or not he would use the book, and put it to the side. He looked at the props, and something twisted inside of him. If he talked about how messed up he was, then people would know the unhappy truth behind all those zany to shows, and would never watch them in the same way again. For better or worse he knew that he had made the underground laugh in a time when that felt impossible, so he wasn't sure if he had the strength to speak of the reality about that star he'd been. But at the same time, if he pretended like it was all fun on set and he wasn't suffering with issues he hadn't even heard of yet, and acted as though the person he was then was even someone he could look in the eye today…  
Maybe he wouldn't even bring up his past, just go straight into who he was now.  
When he felt that pressing feeling lighten somewhat, he knew he made the right choice,  
And then he was excited again, he could start himself over for the third time, and this time maybe he'd get it right at last!  
He pulled out a pad of lined paper he kept, and started to write.  
By the time he was done figuring out his first video, it was late. Eleven thirty, and very dark.  
He caught his reflection in the window, and wondered when he'd turned on his eyelights.  
"Dammit," he muttered gently, and put his stuff away. He was more tired than he expected to be, and wondered when exactly he got so old and boring. He needed new friends and parties and ugh, he rolled his eyes at the thought of the nerdy convention he'd have to go to tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha, God, I feel like nothing even happens in this chapter!! Next one should be a little more exciting!! But thank you so much for sticking with this!!


	4. YouTube is fun (and easy!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaton finally does his YouTube video. It goes well, and full of positivity (I clearly know nothing of how YouTube actually works)

He woke up gasping for air, locked in a fetal position, and tangled up in his charger cable, blankets and earphones.  
It had been an all new nightmare, nothing to do with Flowey, but it had felt as real as one of his flashbacks.  
He reached for the nightmare journal and the fluffy pencil.  
"Felt real- illogical, current body.  
King?  
Papyrus- I was knighting him / he was swearing an oath / Royal guard?  
Asgore, Toriel, Undyne- dead  
I was glad, but I was terrorfied- I was still in my head, hearing my thoughts and I hated them and I was thinking my thoughts???  
Alphys was dead I made a statue I didn't help her it didn't look like her  
Another skeleton, short- BUT I DON'T KNOW HIM?  
I don't think I'm going to do a good job?  
This never happened?  
Felt like sleep paralysis trapped in my own body,  
first person- I could hear my own thoughts and they were like what I used to think, but I could think my own thoughts separately?"  
It didn't convey what happened at all; he didn't want it to.  
He remembered looking in the mirror in his dream, and seeing a crown, and feeling like a horrorfied man in a thrilled man's mind.  
Asgore had never worn a crown. Did he have it made while his people were going through losing Asgore and Undyne?  
He felt a tremor go through him- Alphys! Alphys had killed herself… when? Before or after he seized the throne? How had he done that in the first place, and- why? He'd wanted showbiz, and of course that came with power, but he never thought he wanted- that.  
He jotted his thoughts down, and started swiping away at tears that he didn't understand. Images floated before him, unease written on Papyurs' face, some blank eyed hatred on a skeleton's face he didn't know, and a bowing crowd of a few hundred monsters, all looking so frightened and grave.  
He felt sick, he felt a wave of sheer, choking, viscous fear crash over him, leaving his world drenched for a moment. He struggled for air for the impact, as he sat on his bed, chin pressed into his knees, rocking and holding himself together. He breathed in, and out, and noticed the sun filtering through his blinds and brightening up the world.  
It was a beautiful day for a walk in the park.  
He wiped his face, and checked his phone. It was only ten to eight, and he'd already had a cracking break down. He hadn't felt so shaken and vulnerable in years, he'd eventually gotten to expect some stuff. But something like that was new, and terrifying.  
He breathed it in and breathed it out, and started to trace little patterns on his arms. He liked the way his plastic fingers sounded against metal arms, so he focused on the sound. He thought about the real present, not some stupid dream past.  
He bet it was symbolic for something.  
He bet it was just some more advanced made up dream. It had to be. He must have just seen that other skeleton in passing, and the rest was just an invention of some sort.  
He put it out of his mind.  
He noticed as he got ready for a day of recording, that it had a habit of crawling back through his mind.  
Images.  
The crowd of hundreds.  
The crown and the throne.  
The golden statue of Alphys.  
The scowling faces of a dozen or so of the remaining Royal guard at his… coronation?  
He wanted to warn them, because he felt like he was going to do something to them.  
He wasn't in contact with any of the dogs, but he was… sort of glad now.  
He wasn't exactly friends with Undyne either. No wonder Papyrus hadn't exactly got back into contact with him, he bet Alphys told Undyne all his ugly stories, and naturally Undyne would tell Papyrus.  
He felt a little hopeless, but he wasn't going to let that get in the way of today.  
But there was no way he could go straight to recording. Instead, he looked over his script.  
"Hello beauties and gentle-beauties," it was a phrase he quite liked, so he was going to keep it. He'd decided to keep it low on sketches for now, and just speak conversationally. From what he understood of the memes Alphys sent him, and the bitchy textposts he loved, what he said should be funny…  
He hoped he was funny.  
Most people laughed when he made a joke, at least.  
Well, he was just redrafting and tightening his script, and starting to act it out with a mirror before going back to the script and changing it again, and between sudden bursts of inspiration that left his script decimated but his video stronger, he eventually forgot about his strange, strange dream.  
By about eleven he was starving, and bored of his pajamas. He looked around in his fridge, and found left over curry he'd made himself from the day before yesterday. Looking after himself and making his own food was one of the ways he grounded himself, and after all the cooking shows he'd done, it made sense that he actually enjoyed cooking.  
He found his thoughts shifting slightly to Papyurs, and then full tilt into wondering if Papyrus liked to cook, and if Papyrus would like what Mettaton could make, and what Papyrus was interested in, and whether or not he'd texted him again. He shivered and both dreaded a message or recieving none.  
There was a message from Papyrus.  
"I BET YOU WERE SEXY, IT'S JUST THAT UNDYNE CAN'T TELL A SEXY MAN FROM A WALL!"  
"Or a calculator."  
"METTATON'S HOT, CAN WE ALL AGREE!?"  
"I sure can! ;3"  
He wasn't sure why he texted without any reservation, but it was just that their conversation seemed like fun, and he wanted to be a part of it.  
"SORRY, BUT 2/3 OF US THINK METTATON'S HOT. YOU'RE OUTVOTED."  
"Paps… I'm gay, Mettaton could be the hottest piece of ass on this earth and I wouldn't care."  
"HE IS."  
Mettaton looked through the gif keypad for anything suitable, and settled with an adorable blushing trashcan.  
"Is Alphys with you?"  
"No, just trying to channel her! It's not fair that Papyrus gets back-up, and I'm here on my lonesome…"  
"NO, IT'S NOT FAIR THAT UNDYNE AIOHEFWBA"  
"NOW SHE'S JUST OEWIRGHREWGMASHING THE SKOJEKEYBOARD WHILE I'M TYPINGGKAJASFNOEJ"  
"I SWEAR TO GOD"  
"Ugh, chill loser, I'm going out now anyway!"  
"Have fun with your boyfriend lol bye"  
"WE WOULD HAVE MADE A GROUPCHAT IF WE WANTED YOU HERE!"  
"Was she staying for a sleepover?"  
"YOU COULD SAY I STAY OVER HERS EVERY NIGHT. WE'RE FLATMATES NOW. AFTER THIS, WE'RE FLATENEMIES."  
Mettaton rolled his eyes. He didn't know how he was meant to interact with Papyrus if Undyne was gonna keep hovering… of course, they could meet up again in person, but that might end up being awkward, or difficult to arrange. He didn't know what Papyrus did for a living, or really very much about him at all.  
"At least you have company though! :3"  
"NYEH HEH HEH THAT'S VERY TRUE! EVEN IF SOMETIMES SHE IS ANNOYING."  
"I don't think she really likes me.. ;-;"  
"I MEAN, PROBABLY NOT, BUT SHE DOESN'T REALLY LIKE ANYONE VERY MUCH! BELIEVE IT OR NOT, SHE DIDN'T EVEN LIKE ME WHEN WE FIRST MET!"  
"Horrifying! How did you two meet though?"  
"ONE NIGHT I SNUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE AND KNOCKED ON HER DOOR AND SCREAMED THROUGH HER WINDOW THAT I NEEDED ROYAL GUARD TRAINING, AND I DID THAT UNTIL THE MORNING."  
"IT WASN'T A GREAT START, BUT SOMEHOW SHE PUT UP WITH ME ANYWAY!"  
"Oh jeez. Can't say I made a better first impression on her tho :/"  
"DON'T WORRY! YOU'LL GET USED TO HER I'M SURE! YOU'RE BEST FRIENDS WITH ALPHYS, RIGHT, SO YOU GOTTA GET ON WITH UNDYNE EVENTUALLY!"  
"Yeah, that's true.. I'm so glad they have each other!"  
"ME TOO!! UNDYNE HAS CALMED DOWN SO MUCH SINCE THEY'VE GOT TOGETHER!"  
"And I've never seen Alphys so happy! :3"  
Papyrus sent him a gif of a cat blushing and falling over. It was captioned "daaawwwwwwww", and Mettaton felt the short looped video fitted the sentiment perfectly.  
He looked through the gifs on the keypad, and selected the most fabulous one to send back.  
He looked back over his choice in outfit and shook his head. Alphys had said dressy, and he'd chosen that mess!  
He looked back through his wardrobe and found the nice black dress shirt with an intricate silver design to pair with the dark purple blazer and the trousers too. He wondered if the tie would look too dressy, and dithered about, placing his outfit on the bed. He snapped a quick picture and then rearranged to show his initial more casual outfit. He sent both pictures to both Alphys, and in a moment of inspiration, to Papyrus. He thought he might post them on Instagram because they were both nice outfits.  
A bit… loud though. But as he looked in his wardrobe with an increasing sense of desperation, Mettaton discovered that all his formal wear was that bold. He wondered if purple really went well with some of his hot pink casing.  
He shook himself out of it. Just because he was learning to stop idolising himself, didn't mean he was going to stop loving himself, and he looked good in purple!  
There were a few bleeps on his phone, and Mettaton smiled slightly, feeling the response pour in. He also scolded himself, just a little. He wasn't dependent on their reaction to him. Or at least, he wouldn't be forever.  
Alphys told him to go formal, and also told him that his clothes and fashion sense were one hundred percent damn. Then she sent him a photo of some anime boy with a similar fashion sense, and Mettaton blushed. For Alphys, that was the highest form of praise.  
He looked at the response from Papyrus, which was a hell of a lot of emojis all with heart eyes and thumbs up, but no indication of which he actually liked better.  
"WOWIE! GOING ANYWHERE SPECIAL WITH THOSE OUTFITS?"  
"Not really, just going to speak at this nerdy science conference with Alphys.."  
"OH WOW!! THAT SOUNDS, UH, REALLY VERY EXCITING. I JUST LOVE SCIENCE, I MEAN, IF YOU DO, THAT IS!"  
Mettaton smiled, but felt something a little uneasy crawl into the back of his mind. He couldn't place it, exactly.  
"Oh no!! I'm just being nice to her, science isn't really my thing!"  
"OH THANK GOODNESS!! I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT A BIT!! I'M MORE ABOUT PUZZLES!"  
"AH YES, QUITE TRADITIONAL FOR US MONSTERS, ISN'T IT! I'M RATHER ATTATCHED TO GAMES, AND TRAPS!"  
"TRAPS? WHERE'S THE SPORT IN THAT?! OH NO, A GOOD PUZZLE IS A CHALLENGE WORTHY OF A REAL ROYAL GUARD!"  
"OF COURSE, THAT TOTALLY DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE, SO I TOTALLY LOST MY ONLY CAREER AND GOAL IN LIFE, SO IT'S BACK TO PUZZLES."  
Mettaton could almost sense a dissapointed sigh from the other end of the screen, so decided to change the topic.  
"Up to anything fun today?"  
"EVERY DAY IS FUN ON THE SURFACE!! I THINK I'M GOING TO HIT THE BEACH SOME TIME TODAY, AND MAYBE GO JOB HUNTING! EVENTUALLY I'LL FIND SOMETHING I WANT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!"  
"Oh wow! That really does sound amazing!"  
"WHAT ABOUT YOU, APART FROM THE SCIENCE THINGY?"  
"Oh, I've actually got a job! With Buzzfeed, I'm doing a YouTube series! It's challenging celebrities to become youtubers, I think!"  
"OH WOWIE! I LOVE BUZZFEED CHALLENGE VIDEOS!! I ALWAYS ROOT FOR THEM TO DO WELL!! BUT THAT SEEMS COOL AS HECK!"  
"Thank you!! You'll totally have to subscribe to my new chanel then, ahaha!"  
"But talking of YouTube, I better go actually record!! Lovely speaking to you, as always! Xx"  
Mettaton flipped his phone over so he wouldn't be tempted to see the response he got from Papyrus. Instead, he thought to look more seriously for his recording equipment, and in a dazzling burst of inspiration, donned his suit that he would wear tonight. Perfect for the premier of his brand new show! He flicked though his script and scrawled in a few minor adjustments, and looked through his cupboard.  
Mettaton never remembered placing all of the invaluable and unendingly interesting artifices in the back of the cupboard, but sure enough, he found his very first video camera, an old tripod, and even a microphone from his journalism days. If the sound wasn't clean enough, he thought to himself, he could always dub himself over.  
Gently, he set everything up, and checked over his camera, overjoyed to find it in top condition. That was how he'd found it in the dump, too. As Mads lived there, Mettaton and Blooky had always had the best pickings.  
He hit record, and gathered his small bunch of props he'd discovered around his house, and kept them out of shot but in reach, which was always easy when your arms could extend up to ten feet.  
"Helloo beauties and gentle beauties! Today, I want to announce that I'm starting a YouTube channel!"  
He popped off a party popper, a bottle of champagne, threw some glitter and fired a gun. He put his hand to his mouth in mock shock and giggled. It was unplanned. He thought he might edit that later.  
"So, my name's Mettaton, and welcome to MTT-BRANDVLOG! This is just a Buzzfeed experiment for now, but I like to think I know a little about how YouTube works, and maybe I can make it here! So for now, I'm here to stay! This video is meant to be a little introduction on who I am…"  
At some point, Mettaton's gameshow music had started to play in the background. He was enjoying this! But there was still a prickle of doubt, the feeling that what he was doing was wrong, that he didn't deserve this.  
"I'm a robot, I used to be a ghost, but I had this body designed because although ghosts have no gender, I knew I was a man, and also because ghost monsters are not treated in the same way as physical monsters. So I'm a non-binary to male transgender robot, thank you." He stared right in the camera, and felt the music gradually become a heavy, throbbing silence.  
"And in the comments I would just love it if all the anti-sjws could simply avoid this channel, because although there is nothing they can do to offend me, I don't want any of my fans to feel threatened by hateful comments."  
"Oh yeah, also I'm gay! Can't forget that!" He clapped his hands together and laughed a little, and the music resumed immediately. "Pressing on though," and he smiled lightly into the camera, "there's more to me than my gender expression! There's my childhood spent in a hole, my difficulty being taken seriously as both a monster and then a performer, and then there's the longstanding mental health problems, some of which are a result of the said growing up in a hole and the not being taken seriously. I have lots going for me."  
"And on the surface, I clearly made all the best choices! There was the tweets that absolutely no one screenshotted and posted everywhere, and then there were the adverts that no one thought were embarrassing at all! To quote an employee that I really should have been easier on- I'm only 22 and I've already wasted my entire life. Except that's not what he said, because he was 19 at the time.  
Did I ever say that I owned the equivalent of McDonald's, but it was really expensive because that's what I thought human restaurant prices were like. Also the burgers were made from glitter."  
He smiled as if to say "what am I like" into the camera. "I also used to look like a calculator." He reached for the cardboard box that he'd done up with markers to look like his previous version of himself, and stood next to it. He posed sexily. Later, he'd add a "before and after" text. "But that's all the past! And all of that, on a more serious note, is not who I am. Who I am now is… well, I live in Westerlyn, and I just love it here! I go to a few shows, and my favourite so far has been Wicked! I cried sooo badly at the end!" He clasped a hand over where his heart should be, had he been human. "Also, I do watch a lot of youtubers… I do particularly like Tyler Oakly! Ahaha, not sponned, by the way.." "So, that's a wrap on me, and what I'm about, and if you want to see more of this, then you can always out the video on loop and watch until the curse I put on it eventually sucks you dry of your life essence. Should take about seven days of continual watching.  
Or you can like and subscribe and I'll have a new video out by tomorrow! Like, whatever you're about, gorgeous!"  
He shut off his camera, praying it hadn't turned itself off or exploded or something.  
He plugged it into his computer, and uploaded the recording. He checked his phone in the meantime… just some status updates. While he was saving the full internet stalk for when he could catch up with Alphys, he was also incredibly curious about the kind of online presence Papyrus had.  
He clicked on his profile, and started to scroll while the video compiled away.


	5. Dinky Pink Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An event! Good luck, don't fuck it up!

There was nothing shocking about Papyrus' Undernet account. He had few hundred posts, and a good deal of those were selfies, which Mettaton found relatable. And also, Papyrus looked cute. In about half of them, anyway. The other half were photos of him flexing with various snap backs, spliffs, and sunglasses photoshopped onto his bicep area.  
He made lots of textposts too, and they all had about 250,000 notes on them… he was actually popular! And some business minded part of Mettaton's thought process noticed that this was someone who had done well on the Internet, and he'd do well to analyse what sort of habits Papyrus had and maybe ask him about them when they next met up, possibly suggest some kind of collaboration.  
And some distinctly less focused part of him thought that meeting up with Papyrus for a collaboration sounded great to him… He checked the time. He'd been scrolling for about an hour now, and his video still wasn't quite ready. It'd be done by the time he got home though, and considering that the challenge didn't start until next week, he was still well ahead, which suited him fine. He ran a flat iron over his hair, just to make sure he was looking his best, and looked through his accessories. One pair of black leather gloves later, and he was feeling perfect. He checked the time again: it was 6:27, and Alphys was going to pick him up at 6:30. He sent her a quick text and headed out. He waited outside of the block of flats, and jumped into Alphys' dinky pink smart car.  
"H-hey there! Thanks for coming to this tonight, it- it's pretty important!"  
She kept her eyes on the Westerlyn roads, which was definitely a smart move. Lots of people honked their horns at her tiny little two seater. Mettaton had to admit; it was a silly looking car.  
Still, since he couldn't drive, it wasn't like beggers could be choosers!  
"It's not a problem darling, it's an honour! Want to tell me a little more about it?"  
"W-well, you know how I'm doing this course on robotics? this module is about our chosen specialist subject within robotics- a-and mine's on magical robotics and how it differs from…" she seemed to struggle for the right words. "From normal robotics?"  
"Of course, darling!"  
"Well, I've made my own lil normal robot back in the science lab at uni, and I'm gonna compare it with, well, you! You're sort of like a magical robot! But of course, things are a little different because you're a ghost, but still! Magical! Heh.. Maybe I can make a robot with no circuits and just magic, for a full contrast… some day. Maybe for a thesis…" Mettaton stared out of the window while Alphys planned out her ideas for her course. It wasn't that Mettaton wasn't interested, but he just had to interject. For his own sanity.  
"I met someone the other day, did you know that?"  
"OH!! Yeah, Undyne told me! Apparently you and Papyrus get on really well, heh…"  
"Oh, she takes the fun out of everything, I bet you've stalked him on the Undernet already, without me, haven't you!"  
"Actually, we've been mutuals since back Underground! He's really nice, you'd make a cute couple! I've been shipping it for a while now!"  
Mettaton folded his arms in mock fury. "And you never thought to tell me."  
Alphys blanched and blushed a deep, panic-button red. "Aghh, well I had no idea about whether or not you- you'd find it c-creepy or- I mean, you guys haven't even met… well until-"  
It seemed like she finally processed something, and gasped loudly. Mettaton smirked, secretly glad to know that she was interested in what he was secretly dying to tell her.  
"Oh! My God! Mettaton, how was it? Do you, l-like him!?"  
Coyly, he folded his hands and leant back in his car seat. "Alphys, please, eyes on the road!"  
He giggled, and burst forward suddenly- "oh my god, Alph, he's so nice! Okay, so here's how it went!!"  
He ran through the little story to Alphys, and for once, Mettaton was glad of Westerlyn's traffic jams and gridlock. It gave him all the time in the world to talk about romance in great, elaborate detail! And Alphys was even generous enough to squeal and cheer for him in the appropriate places.  
Not that she wouldn't anyway, she was an absolute sucker for romance, especially if it was animated.  
"S-so you think he's- uh- i-into you? Not that he wouldn't be-"  
"Yeah, I think he is... Although, who could resist my charms?"  
"Really!"  
She gasped and seemed delighted, but Mettaton just crumpled forlornly back into his car seat.  
"Oh Alphys, I just can't tell! Let me show you the texts- no, I can't, you're driving and you should keep your eyes on the road, ugh! I wish you were around more often so I could-"  
'ah', he thought. He hadn't meant that.  
He looked over at Alphys, who gave him a tight smile. It was the one she always did just before she started crying.  
"Oh, no, darling, it's okay! I... I understand! You have a big uni to go to, and it's your dream, and frankly darling, you're wonderful at it!" He laughed gently, "it'd be a crime to pull you away! Don't worry about me, I just miss you from time to time!"  
She still looked stricken, but now somewhat reassured.  
"I miss talking about boys with you... heh, not that it ever got us anywhere good..." She murmured, sounding as though in a daze  
"Don't. Alphys, please stop torturing yourself with all that stuff from back then, none of us were exactly ourselves."  
He supposed that came from rather a selfish place from within him. A little part of him that wanted to believe that the person he was back then wasn't really him.  
He knew damn well that it was him, possibly more him than the person he was pretending to be now.  
Of course, thinking like that was hurtful to all the progress he was making, so he tried to put it out of his mind for the moment, and comfort Alphys, who was looking despairingly into the traffic ahead.  
That was one of the worst parts about being friends with Alphys. He didn't see her very often, and when he did get the chance to meet up, there was always the possibility that she'd be in one of her sad moods, and they wouldn't even have anything nice to say at all.  
"Alphys? You still there?" He intoned gently.  
"H-huh? Sorry... I spaced out there, didn't I?"  
He hummed his confirmation, and internally remarked how much she reminded him of dear Blooky, just in that moment.  
She started to say something, but seemed to change her mind last minuet, and mumbled that she forgot what it was she was about to say.  
Mettaton sighed. This was his oldest friend. His only real friend. The only person that knew everything about him, and vice-versa, and they couldn't think of a single thing to say to each other.  
Dammit, he was a professional before anything, and he could make conversation to a tree before now, so he could pull a conversation out of Alphys if it was the last thing he did.  
"So, when's this science thing starting? We won't miss it will we, though it would be delightful to be, ah, fashionably late and own the place!"  
"Ah, God, I think I'd rather be dead or anything else! Aha- uh," she flushed for a moment. "Don't tell my therapist I said that, I didn't really mean it."  
"I know darling. Oh, how's that been going for you, by the way!"  
He was genuinely hopeful and excited. Since he'd discovered exactly the way she'd been feeling while building his original EX. form, he'd felt disgusted with himself for not noticing and doing something to help.  
Probably about as disgusted as Alphys when she realised that Mettaton had Flowey in his life, and she hadn't noticed either.  
"Um, it's going great."  
Mettaton stared at her. There were small beads of sweat gathering around her forehead, and she couldn't quite meet his eye.  
"Okay, it hasn't gone as well as yours. I just- I don't like her very much? She's kind of dismissive and keeps telling me about medication even though I can't take it? And I think she just has a problem with monsters and I kind of have a problem with that and I know I should just report her totheboardbutIreallydon'twanttodothataghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"  
The traffic was dead still, so Mettaton took her hand and told her very gently to shut up, and he'd help her sort it out since he'd been threw a few therapists before he found the right one for him.  
"Y- you'd do that for me?"  
He smiled a sad little half smile, and squeezed her hand gently. "Please," he said sincerely. "As if I wouldn't do much worse things than shout at some bureaucrat down a phone."  
And then all of a sudden, it was his turn to see defensive eyes cast at him.  
"Mettaton, it wasn't your fault. You didn't want to do those things."  
He looked away, quickly. He knew that was what everyone kept telling him. The things Flowey had first forced him into, and later merely suggested to him were his fault. At first, of course there were bullets around his SOUL when he did something to someone who didn't deserve it.  
But in the end he had the hitmen. He had them in case there was anyone else who needed to be bumped off, in case there were any other young stars who might steal his spotlight.  
He guessed he was somewhat grateful that he and Flowey had disposed of them all already, he'd have hated to do it alone. He supposed that's why he hired the hitmen.  
"Oh look, we're finally moving." He couldn't muster the energy to be enthused, however.  
"Y-yeah, we a-are." And Alphys focused on her driving with a smile fixed to her face like it as drawn on in Sharpie.  
Mettaton stared out of the window at the other traffic, and admired all the lights. The lights on the cars, the lights on the buildings, the millions of windows all lit up like a million SOULs, all alive and living and experiencing.  
It was magnificent against the night, the only kind of stars Mettaton needed.  
He stared at the lights until he stopped seeing the darkness of the underground.  
"So, what kind of stage are we looking at? Big enough to handle me?"  
Alphys breathed out, and Mettaton felt so bad.  
"Heh, I should th-think so! We're in the l-lecture hall, and I-I think's it's pretty- um. Big."  
"You're not nervous now, are we, dear Alphys?"  
"Hah! Me, n-nervous?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and he giggled. "Always."  
And then all of a sudden, the university was in sight, a big, imposing modern looking building, about a quarter of the size of anything Mettaton was used to looking at, but about three times as wide. It looked like some kind of sleeping creature, and Mettaton felt as though the place could be a theatre.  
Squint, and it was a theatre.  
There was the electricity in the air before a show. He hadn't been on a stage since he'd started therapy, and he… he was excited. He wanted to prove himself. He felt like he was fourteen and going on stage for the very first time, which he supposed meant that his rebirth was a success.  
They got out of the car, and Mettaton followed behind Alphys through the dark carpark and towards the open doors of the university. Mettaton could see that the entrance was open and lit, and there were more people buzzing around the place than he'd initially thought.  
There was a human at the door, giving out leaflets, presumably about the evening lecture. They recognised Alphys immediately, and waved cheerily.  
"Hey Al!" They chirped and patted her on the back. She flushed and greeted the human back with a shy wave. "I can't wait to see what you have to say on this! All your other presentations have been brilliant, so good luck! Jen says she'll show you where to wait and watch the other presentations, so- oh, there she is!" The human paused for breath, before calling out for their friend. "Hey Jen! Alphys is here!"  
The other friend greeted Alphys with less of the first human's boundless enthusiasm, and the two monsters followed her to their seats in the hall. The benches were raised, the bench behind taller than the one in front. The stage was not laughable, and Mettaton felt something within him waver.  
He tapped his fingers against his arm, but stopped when the humans sitting around them gave him a look.  
"The human at the front was friendly! Do you two get on?" He breathed to Alphys, feeling shy about drawing too much attention to himself. There was a low chatter in the audience, so Mettaton felt the need to keep his voice down.  
"Oh, that's just what Kai is all about, they're like that with everyone… so I guess we do get on!" She beamed, but quickly resumed her resting anxiety face.  
Mettaton too felt uncomfortable. He'd never gone up in front of a crowd so densely populated with humans. He knew he tested well with a human audience, especially as his form was so hominid, but they did tend to have some preconceived ideas about him that were… immature. He supposed that was why he tested so well, and it made his skin crawl.  
He reached for Alphys' hand, and she took it gratefully. He gave it a little squeeze, and she squeezed back. He felt better.  
The lights went down and the chatter died immediately. For a moment, Mettaton felt anticipation nearly overwhelm him, but then he remembered he was still on the audience side of the stage. For the moment.  
Then, a human who introduced themself as Professor Loret gave the audience a speech on what this evening was about. When Mettaton found he only really understood about half of the things the professor was saying, and could barely keep his eyes open, he was suddenly thrown back to his first experience with school when he decided that snail farming was more interesting.  
His mind drifted off to the Internet, and then, quite naturally, to Papyrus, and he had to nearly physically stop himself from laughing at his posts.  
And the professor was boring. Murderously so. He was itching to get up there and host the evening himself, nerves be damned!  
And then, at long last, the professor called up the first pupils, who mercifully were not Alphys and Mettaton.  
It was instead the two humans sitting on the end of the row, and Mettaton recognised them as the human that greeted them, Kai, and Jen, the human that lead them to their seats.  
Kai smiled warmly, moved around the stage with a relaxed walk and talk posture, and their voice carried clearly and easily. Mettaton felt like he was going to have a better time listening to these two humans than Professor Loret. The two turned their slides on, and Mettaton's hope for their presentation shrivelled and died.  
"Hello everyone, and welcome to our presentation on sensors and controllers, and how impactful accuracy in robots can be!"  
Mettaton sighed and leant into his chair, wishing the room wasn't darkened so he could get on his phone and be less conspicuous. He looked to Alphys expecting to see the same boredom on her face, only to find her on the edge of her seat with her notebook ready.  
"Oh Jesus Christ, spare me" he thought, staring into the empty vaccum of space itself.  
The presentation lasted an eon that had compressed itself into half an hour, and had reminded Mettaton of the few times Alphys had tried to explain what his body actually was. After the great applause, which he naturally contributed to, if only for something to do, Kai and Jen sat back down, and new pupils were called up.  
The next pupils called up were both dressed in black, expensive looking suits. Mettaton hated wearing black, he always felt so plain, but he knew that a lot of people really revelled in the colour, so he tried not to judge them.  
The two announce that their presentation was on the assimilation of AI in society. Mettaton figuratively switched off.  
He suddenly became acutely aware of what they were saying when the slide was on how Intelligent Robots posed a threat to the economic world. He was feeling some terrible rage when the humans presented the assimilation of Artificial Intelligence into wider society as crises of society itself due to the challenges AI could present to sex and consent, employment equality, and human rights.  
He wasn't sure what the words meant, but he knew exactly what was being said, and it made him feel sick. And not half as scared as it should. Twice as angry as he thought he'd be.  
He was staring at the humans on the stage, and made eye contact with them as they continued with their presentation on how, in their opinion, the AI would inevitably destroy what it meant to be human. The one that was currently talking didn't stutter as he said words that made something that felt nothing like compassion stir within Mettaton.  
"Introducing intelligent robots into the world would make life unfair for all humans on earth. Robots that could pass for human, but made stronger and with motives that can be reprogrammed by anyone without anyone even being aware of that as a possibility- and a being like that is unsuitable for life in human society as they pose a risk to human safety. They could suddenly be reprogrammed by terrorists and turn against a crowd. For their unreliability, AI and passable robots should never be allowed any of the same rights as humans."  
The one that was talking had very pale skin, and straw like blond hair. Mettaton took in his face with rapt attention. He wanted a name, and he wanted to make that human explain his point all over again, in lovely simple words for Mettaton to understand. And then, Mettaton wanted to break his neck.  
Mettaton noticed a few people had turned to look at him, gauge his reaction. He diligently ignored them all, including Alphys. He instead kept his face dead ahead, his eyes focused on a single button on the projector high above the humans on the stage, and directly in his line of sight.  
It wasn't even that he was Artificial Intelligence. His personality and thoughts were all entirely organic, it was nothing but his body that was robotic. It was just that everyone thought he was, and therefore, thought that he wasn't equal. And that no one cared to know the truth.  
But, their presentation ended and recieved applause. None from Alphys, but Mettaton clapped. Slowly, loudly, and as aggressively as he possibly could.  
And then he and Alphys were called to the stage.  
He almost felt light as he walked across the row, and up the stairs to the stage. There was a polite applause for them, and then Alphys introduced them, and wheeled out the robot from behind the curtain.  
A chill went through Mettaton. The robot was his lifeless corpse. It was him though. Of course, it was a stripped back, skeletal version, all wires and bare circuitry, but he could see that it was him.  
It was an uncanny experience, when he thought she'd meant a robot like a roomba.  
"I- I see you like to recycle your designs, Alphys."  
He got a chuckle out of the audience, and that somehow managed to keep the tremble out of his fingers.  
Alphys, however, looked like she was going to melt.  
"A-ah, ahaha, I- I didn't m-mean to! Ehehe, it- it- it's just- I k-kept your b-blue prints b-b-because they're…" she paused for breath under all that stuttering, and looked wildly around the audience for help.  
There was a crashing similarity to the time when he first met Frisk. He wished he could let Alphys be the good guy again, it made her so very happy.  
"You're l-like, my best work?"  
She looked like she was internally screaming, and just short of external screaming.  
Mettaton shook himself inside, remembering that the uncanny robot was an argument for another day (literally never).  
"Why thank you, darling! How about we tell everyone who we are, and then we can really get our teeth into the discussion on… how magical robotics differs from traditional robotics, and the application of dimension into practical device. Oh my god."  
He looked to the audience with pleading eyes, and got a good natured snicker. "Why me?" He whispered into the microphone for everyone to hear, and recieved a conspiratorial laugh. Alphys beamed at him. The audience was on their side now.  
"Y-yeah! My name's Alphys, and I'm here today with Mettaton! He doesn't go here, but he's pretty relevant to the current discourse on magical robotics!"  
There was applause, and Mettaton could have burst for Alphys, who giggled nervously.  
'Nerd', he thought gently, and with great affection.  
She went through the slides with minimal stuttering, at least by her standards, and Mettaton made occaisonal interjections. She'd briefly demonstrated how the use of a remote control differed to asking a magical robot like Mettaton, how the robot simply carried out tasks where Mettaton needed to be asked to do something and action was conditional upon agreement, much like with any monster or human.  
It was at this point where the concept of ghosts entered her slideshow, and she explained that Mettaton Ex. was built to accommodate the ghost that made Mettaton. Hearing about the, well, biological side of his body made Mettaton feel queasy, but he supposed it was interesting. If you were a nerd.  
"Ghosts, when corporeal, adjust to the rules of the vessel that they have fused with, so to speak. A ghost that merely possesses a robot will not experience the need to charge, and should the robot become damaged, the ghost will not lose HP as ghosts are not physical. However, a non-corporeal ghost will not experience the sense of touch, taste, smell, or balance, compared to a ghost that has become corporeal with a physical vessel, who will experience all senses. They will, however, lose HP when they take damage, and should their body become completely damaged, the corporeal ghost will fall down. J-just like any other monster w-would."  
She flustered for a moment, and Mettaton felt a little pensive.  
He didn't think of himself as a corporeal ghost, instead thinking robot monster was simply more accurate. But he supposed it was easier terminology for the humans to understand the concept of ghosts.  
"A-are there any qu-questions anyone would like to ask?"  
He heard a murmur from the audience before one of the professor's raised their hand.  
The question the professor asked was unintelligible to Mettaton, but Alphys lit up, and explained with stammering enthusiasm. The answer she gave seemed to please the human, who noted something in some kind of diary.  
Everything that happened was so incomprehensible and mysterious to Mettaton. He truly felt as though there were more to learn from this world.  
A few more questions were fired at Alphys, all of which were handled with (what looked like) skill and poise. There was an applause around the room, and then it was time to leave the stage.  
The two found their seats, and it was back to watching the others present. In some hushed whispers between applause, Mettaton came to understand that they were being assessed, and taking questions had given Alphys higher marks as they required greater thinking skills and unprepared own knowledge. None of the others attempted to take questions, but all seemed to do well.  
And at long last, the evening drew to a close. Mettaton could breath a sigh of relief as they all filtered out of the uni, and felt his mind seem to kick back into gear after not understanding a word of two hours of near constant speech. It was exhausting.  
He was chatting away with Alphys, attempting to not let on that he'd hated every second not spent on stage, when he felt eyes on him.  
Between his robot appearence, brightly coloured clothes and being about three feet taller than the tallest human in the room, combined with his fame and extroverted tendencies, Mettaton was used to being looked at. He was also used to being whispered about, and judged and laughed at. It was all a part of the trade.  
"I don't care what you say, Daley- he wasn't earning credit, he had Loret's permission, so I think it's fair he turned up! He was pretty damn relevant, alright?"  
He gave a sidelong glare to who ever it was that was criticising his appearance in their assessment, and wasn't surprised to see the blond human from the Ethics of Robotics talk.  
"Besides," he called out, "I was the highlight of the whole damn evening!" And carried on walking away.  
He could hear the human yelling something back, but all he could hear was an inner voice, that sometimes sounded like Flowey's, telling him that he almost made progress and now he'd been stupid by letting the development get to him, and now he was practically going backwards.  
"-idiot!" was all he heard from the bellowing behind him, but the word hit him like a physical blow. It left him trembling, but he continued to walk away as if without a care in the world, as he always had before when something cut him deep.  
He was glad to break free of the cavernous mouth of the uni, and into the cold, fresh car park where he could escape back to his home in Westerlyn with Alphys, who was jogging to keep up with his sweeping strides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I'm sorry this is so late! Going back to school is always a readjustment!! Thank you for sticking with this silly lil fic!!


	6. Grass Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yay papyrus return

He got to the car door, and struggled pathetically with the handle, not realising that Alphy’s car was locked, and she was still waddling behind him, out of breath and brandishing the keys.  
He swiped furiously at his face. He felt stupid. It wasn’t even like he really knew what the stupid human had said, he’d just let it all phase out. He knew it had been… loud. But it was only shouting, it wasn’t as half as bad as half the stuff that’d really made him cry.  
He wasn’t feeling intimidated or horrifically, paralyzingly frightened. He was just feeling frustrated. With Alphys and her slow pace, with the human and his stupid point of view, with the damn robbers that meant Alphys couldn’t just keep her car unlocked at all times… with himself for shouting at a student probably three times as clever as him…  
He tore his hands through his hair, desperate to feel the strands off his face. He felt a little pain as he pulled a few strands out, and just wanted to stamp his feet and throw a real tantrum. Every single hair had been hand threaded and would have to be replaced individually.  
He was leaning on the car, practically dwarfing it, when Alphys finally reached him. She found him clutching a small clump of hair and winced. She had no idea when she was going to have time to fix that, and she knew that Mettaton would want it fixed soon.  
“I’m sorry,” he gasped, and her mind switched instantly back to the present.  
“H-hey, it’s okay! D-don’t sweat it, it’s just a little fibre-“  
Another small sob escaped him, and he pushed a hand over his mouth, desperate to not have to talk about this.  
“Oh, o-okay, this isn’t about the hair, is it?”  
He shook his head, and wished they could just get out of the freezing air and carpark that seemed just too exposed. There were at least twenty cars there, meaning that at least twenty people could be expected to arrive at any time, and then what? They’d see him hunched over a car nearly a foot shorter than he was, and absolutely doing his best to avoid a full panic attack. He hadn’t had one in months and months and months, and he fully intended on keeping it that way.  
He managed to take some good, even breaths. Try to think, to really try and rationalise himself. That person had been rude to him, and about him, and he’d responded by lifting himself up, and putting down absolutely everyone else that had been on the stage.  
He was an asshole.  
And his breathing went strange again, and then Alphys was finally opening the car door, and he was sitting inside and although he had to hunch to make his strange, lanky body fit, it was somewhat comforting in its confinement.   
Felt like hiding.  
“It wasn’t- it wasn’t Daley, was it? Mettaton, literally no one likes him! He’s rude about, well, everyone really! He’s one of those Anti-monsters, but he’s pretty much anti-human too! So, like, try not to let him get you down! He’s…” it seemed to twist her to say anything bad about anyone else, and Mettaton wished he could be like that, be kind like a monster should. “He’s not worth it, okay?”  
Mettaton nodded.  
He trusted himself to speak again.  
“I just, I feel like I was making progress and then all of a sudden I was back to my old ‘bitch I’m flawless’ self and… I’ve been trying so hard to get past that and- “  
He went watery eyed all over again, and had to stop himself from full sobbing. He was just disappointed in himself. He didn’t understand why that was suddenly such a big deal to him.  
“And I guess it only hurts because I thought I was doing well and-“ His breath was short and his voice was choked, but Alphys was patient. “And I guess I just feel like if it hurts this much to fuck up, I shouldn’t try at all!”  
He folded over, buried his face in his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs. And then he felt a hand against his back.  
“Gee…” Though Mettaton couldn’t see it, Alphys’ face became resolved and confident. “Mettaton, you’re still doing well! Just because you showed that guy what’s what today, doesn’t mean that you’ve lost your battle! It just means you still won’t take any crap! Which is good! Because it means that your coping tactics have worked! You’re healing but you’re not turning into something that isn’t you, which is great because…”  
She faltered for a moment, and Mettaton looked up at her. She smiled and took his hands, before speaking again without a hint of a stammer. “Because you really mean a lot to me, the way you are. It’s been so great to have you back, so please don’t go anywhere, okay?”  
She smiled even as her voice started to crack a little, and it made Mettaton cry just a bit more. And then Alphys was absolutely crying too, and Mettaton felt like he could never have a better friend in the world.  
“Alphys!” He yelled suddenly. “You did the presentation! You were phenomenal! Exuberant! Captivated the audience!” He flung his arms around her, and held her tight. “I’m so proud of you!”  
She squealed, loudly, and in his ear. He didn’t really mind.  
“Ohmygod, you REALLY think so! Did they look interested? I was too scared to look! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I still can’t believe I did any of that stuff, it’s crazy! It’s never gone that well before! So, um, thank you!! For being there!! I couldn’t have done it without you!!”  
“Well, I’m awfully glad I was! Just call me next time you have a presentation, even if I’m not relevant to get on stage, nothing could stop me from watching you perform!”  
She blushed and waved her hand.  
“Oh, Mettaton, please, I wouldn’t exactly call it a performance, it’s nothing like what you do!”  
And then Mettaton would absolutely never ever hear anything against his darling Alphys, even if it came from Alphys herself.  
So then they argued about what a performance was, and then eventually Alphys conceded and agreed that what she did was indeed a performance, and then she instantly started a new argument insisting that she wasn’t a very good performer.  
And Mettaton could argue with her all night.   
Until, of course, some staff from the university shone a light into their car.  
“Hey, sorry to bother you ladies, but the car park’s shut now, so you better head off, alright?”  
They nodded, and Alphys steered them out of the car park, but for the second time in a night, Mettaton felt like a bucket of cold water had just been dumped on him.  
He wasn’t a girl.  
He’d never had a female form.  
His body was not that of a female.  
But so many people had a problem with that, and for every person who was happy to smile and correct themselves, there were two who’d argue with him and say that he couldn’t possibly be a male, not dressed like that, not with a face like that, not with a body like that.  
It was almost as bad as when he was a ghost, and his form had no gender, and everyone called him ‘they’, even though he always was, and always had been ‘he’.  
And Alphys knew how he was, and how he felt about being mistaken for female. Once she’d offered him the opportunity to upgrade to a more masculine form, and the offer haunted Mettaton. Sometimes, he wished he looked more like what the humans considered male, just so they’d stop getting it wrong. Sometimes he wanted ‘male’ printed on every inch of his body.  
But then he loved the way he looked. He loved pink, and glitter, and make up. It was part of what made him, and he’d decided he wouldn’t swap it for all the stupid humans in all the world.  
And the silence was crushing all over again. Mettaton had been thrown back into an uncomfortable state of worry, and Alphys just wanted to fix things for him, but she never had the words for this, as often as it occurred.  
She tried to think about how to explain to Mettaton that she recognised him as male, and it didn’t matter what those two humans from uni thought about him. Saying things directly though was not exactly Alphys’ style though.  
She was deeply lost in thought, and Mettaton was leaning up against the window, staring forlornly outwards.  
The truth was that they were both painfully sensitive souls, utterly fixated on themselves and the way they were perceived by the world. It was why they got on so well, and why they spent so much of their time together in tears.  
Alphys knew what she liked when she felt down. To her, there was nothing more calming than the sight of natural beauty, so when she took a slight detour to take the scenic, mountain route back to Westerlyn, instead of the uninspiring motorway, she knew what she was doing.  
Unfortunately, she had no idea what she was doing to Mettaton.  
The second the route had taken a turn for the natural, Mettaton shut his eyes, assuming it would only be for a little interval before the return of concrete, plastic road signs and great, blank skies.  
He kept his eyes shut for a long while, refusing to let his discomfort show.  
Because among monsters, it something strange to be agoraphobic. It felt almost ungrateful to fear the open skies and vast planes that had been kept from them for a millennium.  
Yet, he couldn’t get to grips with it, something about those expanses of open territory made Mettaton felt vulnerable.  
Alphys thought Mettaton had fallen asleep when her electric car ran out of battery.  
Alphys though she was asleep and having a nightmare when she realised her phone had run out of battery on the top of a hill.  
It wasn’t the end of the world though, she thought to herself. She knew she could just call Undyne with Mettaton’s phone, and in the meantime, they could just breath in the nature.  
She shook him awake.  
“Oh, are we home yet, darling?” He mumbled.  
“Umm- n-not exactly?”  
He stiffened. He could hear the sucking silence that the car’s engine should fill, and saw nothing resembling his glittering city. There was just… grass and stars and trees.  
“Where are we, Alphys?” He asked her, calmly, while feeling his legs go weak.  
“Uh, I took the scenic route s-since it’s such a c-clear night and, uh, the car kinda ranoutofchargedon’thateme”  
“Oh, okay. So we’re lost on the side of a mountain then?” His voice was weak and sounded a little far away in his head. Somewhere in his yelling mind, he managed to think that this was one of the worst days on the surface.  
“B-basically!”  
“Oh, okay then.”  
“C-can I use your phone? Mine’s out of charge, ahaha, oh god I’m utterly useless!”  
“Only at charging your devises, but I guess I got used to managing that, huh.” His voice sounded far away, and he was clutching his arms with a crushing pressure.  
“Ahaha, yeah!”  
Mettaton didn’t respond or move at all.  
“Mettaton, your phone? Uh, please?” She added politely.  
“Oh, yeah.” With slow fingers, he pulled it out of his blazer pocket and handed it to her.  
She muttered her thanks, and unlocked it. They knew each other’s pins.  
“Oh, god, there’s no signal.”  
Mettaton breathed out, perfectly evenly, and did his best not to scream very loudly.  
“I’ll g-go take a walk around outside, see if it can p-pick anything up.”  
“Please don’t leave me!” Alphys started, and he started apologising in a stream. Alphys learned quickly exactly why people always told her to stop apologising so much. She’d never had to be on the opposite end before.  
“No, Mettaton, it’s okay! What if- what if you come with me?”  
“No!” He yelled breathlessly. He felt tears in his eyes again, and felt pathetic. He’d cried enough tonight. “How about we both just stay here, yes?”  
Alphys pursed her lips, and tried to understand.  
“But… how will we call for help? It’s okay, I can put the torch on?”  
“It’s not the dark! And, I don’t know, I don’t know… maybe someone will drive past or, or something-“  
She sighed. She was exhausted, and checked Mettaton’s phone for the time. It was nearing midnight, and she knew the sooner she had signal, was the sooner she could get help and get everyone home.  
“No one’s going to be driving past, but we don’t need them too! We- We got this, yeah?”  
He stared at her with a look in his eyes that suggested that he did not want to be left alone.  
“Don’t go.” He muttered. Something didn’t sit well with Alphys, and she thought she might know what it was about.  
If this was anything to do with Flowey, then it was nothing she was equipped to deal with.  
She chewed her lip, indecisive, and assessed the monster before her. He was staring at the inside of the car, at the floor at his feet, all curled up tight, and with fingers clasped together tightly, and gripping his knees so very, very, tightly.  
He needed to be out of here quickly. And getting service now would mean getting out quickly.  
“I’ll- I’ll be less than five minutes, Mettaton, I promise! I c-can lock the door for you, if you like?”  
He didn’t look at her, but he could see his silhouette nod at her.  
She did it quickly, like ripping off a plaster. The slamming door was a car crash of noise, echoing down the empty hills.  
He immediately curled further into a ball, and just tried to breath.  
It wasn’t ever going to happen, he was breathing too much, too fast, the oxygen was dizzying- the cold air was pressing on processors that required a very specific balance of heat. And it was getting to cold, and so he felt sick, and dizzy, and the very car was melting, or rocking, like some great shark had passed under an ocean of grass, leaving him swaying in the wake.  
Or like some great vine had scraped against the underside of the car, ready to punch through the metal body, and then his metal body, like so much tin foil.  
It was the open. He felt like a sitting duck. Nowhere to hide, nothing to hold him, the car was but a canoe in an ocean and Mettaton couldn’t catch a breath for all the breathing.  
There wasn’t a single though in his mind, just the feeling. The feeling of heights and open spaces and flowers and grass and mountains, and all monsters felt it, just a touch. And Mettaton felt it, just a slap.  
There was nothing he could do to stop his exponentially quickening breath. Just another thing to roll over him in an inevitable wave. Just like vines and bullets and laughter and air. Nothing to be done.  
He pulled harder at his hair as his grip tightened involuntarily. Unhealthy sounds escaped hardware from within him. It was as near a scream as he could manage, before blissfully, failsafe measures forced his conscious offline.  
Four and a half minutes later, Alphys found Mettaton slumped face down, folded over in his chair, and went cold.  
She propped him back up in his seat, blessed in the knowledge that no real damage could have been done. At least not to the machine, the replaceable machine.  
She’d seen Mettaton powered down a few times, and each time was as nerve wracking and scientifically invaluable. Because Mettaton didn’t have a SOUL like other, more biological monsters did. It was the most reasonable and easily defined differences between ghosts and monsters.  
It meant that everything Mettaton was, feelings to memories, was stored in a processor in a consciousness that was occasionally forced offline. The effects of which had staggering repercussions on what it meant to have a SOUL.  
And none of this occurred to Alphys as she sat and prayed for the help to arrive.  
It was useless to call an ambulance; they wouldn’t know the first thing about what to do in the case of robot cases. The only living expert was right here.  
And she’d let it all happen in the first place.  
Yet, there was a steely voice within her, one that had been very quiet for a very long time, that insisted that there was nothing she could have done. They couldn’t have stayed in the car indefinitely. And if it was a Flowey thing, then it would only have been worse by day. She’d been told that they’d only met by day, when there was enough light in the Underground for a flower to have the energy to be as cruel and vindictive and violent as he was.  
So she didn’t even regret putting her friend in a potentially permanently damaging coma. She’d finally recognised there was nothing else she could have done.  
Help arrived imminently, in the form of a red Ferrari that had no business being up the side of a mountain, and a boundlessly cheerful skeleton, and an exceedingly strong girlfriend.  
Alphys, having been unaware herself, had not properly conveyed the severity of the situation.  
She got out of the car and ran over to them.  
“HEY! I TOO LOVE TO GO AND STARE AT THE DARK AT THE DEAD OF NIGHT! WHAT ARE THE CHANCES THAT YOU AND METTATON ARE ALSO DARK-ENTHUSIASTS TOO!”  
“No time to explain, he’s passed out and I need a desktop computer like literally as fast as that fricking car will go, okay?”  
And in a lightning moment, Papyrus seemed to change. Still smiling, but suddenly serious and focussed in a way she’d never seen. He’d reached Alphys’ car before Undyne even got out of his.  
She was wearing a pajama suit with tiny fish printed on the bottoms. Alphys bought them for her, and smiled weakly despite herself.  
“Go help Papyrus- Mettaton is like way denser than he appears, and much taller too.”  
“Even denser?” She smirked, and laughed with a hoarse voice.  
“Aha, he’s in a coma and I there’s a chance he’s gone.”  
Undyne’s eyes widened, and muttered a quick curse under her breath before going over to Papyrus.  
Papyrus who was carrying Mettaton bridal style with merry resolve on his face.  
Undyne, sleep deprived, just stared for a moment.  
“Al, babe, how heavy did you say that thing is?”  
“Um, like, 252 pounds exactly.”  
“Jesus Christ, Paps, you’re like, shredded?”  
“NYEH HEH HEH, HE’S LIGHT AS A FEATHER! I COULD CARRY HIM AROUND ALL DAY!”  
As he drew near, Alphys could see visable beads of sweat track down Papyrus’ skull. Not for the first time, when thinking of the skeletons, she utterly questioned their biology.  
“You should be so lucky, fuhuhuhu!” Undyne guffawed, but Alphys, while putting up a half smile, remained grave.  
Undyne held open the door for Papyrus, and helped pull Mettaton’s body into the back seat. Thinking laterally as always, Papyrus strapped Mettaton in with the seatbelts, the words “safety first” barely audible as he clicked the seatbelt buckle.  
Lying down over the two seats, Mettaton looked for all the world as though he were merely sleeping. Papyrus and Undyne seemed to think he was. Only Alphys knew that Mettaton was, in essence, completely dead. She had a solution for that though.  
Mettaton EX. was truly her finest work, and in her humble opinion, the most high tech piece of equipment in the underground, outstripping the Core by lightyears.  
Every night, while charging, his mind, his conscious, his thoughts, feelings, memories, and dreams were backed up, ready to be downloaded and reinstalled should anything go awry.  
Alphys sat in the back seat with Mettaton, his head in her lap. She needed to look over his scalp, at the hair he had pulled out. There were more patches missing than she’d seen him pull out. She went cold all over again when she realised that he’d sat in the car, panicking and pulling his hair out until he'd passed out. And it had all happened in less than four minutes.  
She wondered, not for the first time, what the hell Flowey had done to him,


	7. Dream Machine (don't snoop)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought thought this was gonna get better too... Sorry!! Happiness scheduled for next chapter!!

Papyrus pulled up next to a short block of flats. Alphys had never actually been to Undyne's flat, considering she usually drove out to Alphys' place in Easton to go for a date. She'd said her place was pokey.

Undyne and Papyrus both lifted Mettaton out of the car, and Undyne carried him over to the lift, where she set him down. Papyrus stayed beside her, obviously fretting while doing his utmost to appear somewhere between curious and cheerful.

Alphys followed behind them, as fast as she could but still several paces behind them. She caught glimpses of Mettaton's completely neutral visage and wide open eyes. She felt sick.

They got to an elevator, where Undyne deposited the body to the floor. It was a cramped box made from some dull silver metal that looked as sturdy as foil packaging for a microwave dinner for one.

She couldn't take her eyes off Mettaton, as if he was about to have a seizure or display some sign of life. He couldn't. His body was never really alive.

Papyrus was talking, and Undyne was playfully growing frustrated. They were very loud. Usually, Alphys didn't mind. But it was too loud.

Not only was the loudness of Papyrus and Undyne's squabbling bothering Alphys, but the rattling of the lift, and her own breathing was grating on her like nothing else had.

Undyne must have noticed, because she said something to Papyrus, and they both went quiet. Then she instantly changed her mind and wanted to shout at them to talk some more, before the whining of the elevator drove her to tears.

Before she was driven to anything so drastic, the doors opened, shuddering violently as they did.

Papyrus picked Mettaton up, huffing as he did, and carried him over his shoulder. Undyne grabbed the keys to the flat, and the four of them walked down a short corridor that smelt foul and was decorated in graffiti. Just names and insults, over and over.

"I REALLY THINK IT'S NICE THAT PEOPLE LEAVE MESSAGES FOR EACH OTHER TO READ, EVEN IF THEY DO GO INTO EXCESS TO INSULT THEMSELVES!"

"What are you talking about?" Alphys asked somewhat despairingly.

"WELL," he yelled over his shoulder to her, as there was still some hefty distance between his top walking speed, and her strongest waddle. "WHENEVER I SAY ANYTHING, UM, LIKE THAT, BUT PROBABLY NOT EXACTLY LIKE THAT BECAUSE SANS WOULD PROBABLY KILL ME, I'M SAYING IT ABOUT MYSELF. SO THAT WHO I'M TALKING TO FEELS BETTER! FRISK DOES IT TOO, BUT NOT EXACTLY LIKE THAT, BECAUSE TORIEL WOULD PROBABLY KILL THEM, TOO!"

He beamed at her, and she nodded, listlessly.

She had no idea what he was talking about.

Suddenly, Undyne called that they were home, and brandished her key with the force of a thousand warriors, and unlocked the front door with the accuracy and deftness of a hundred thousand archers.

Then they were in, and the lights were flicked on, and Alphys' eyes narrowed on the PC set up in the corner of the living room. She was delighted that it was a proper Underground set, so she wouldn't have to muck around with trying to configure any new settings.

"OH, SHOULD HE BE AT THE COMPUTER SET?"

"Yes!" She snapped. "Yes, right next to the hard drive, and could you prop him up against the wall? Like, sitting up?"

She delegated with confidence once she was near a computer.

Papyrus, suddenly gaining an appropriate sense of urgency, set him down next to the ancient looking square hardrive, and stood back. Alphys reached into Mettaton's left blazer pocket, and grinned when she found the charger she was looking for. They'd decided that he would always carry it around with him, and always in the left pocket. Her phone number was scrawled on the charger, should he ever go offline without her physical presence. The idea was that the emergency services would find her number on his belongings, and hopefully call.

She plugged the charger into the port at the base of the back of his head, and then the other end into the computer.

Tears started to well in her eyes when there was no response at all. She stood up and stared at the completely unresponsive Mettaton. Memories fluttered before her eyes-

"Um, Alph, I don't know if it helps, but the computer isn't on."

She laughed and nodded, and kicked the start button with the toe of her shoe. The computer flickered to life, and the floodlights in Mettaton's eyes glowed brightly.

 "IS- IS THAT A GOOD SIGN?"

She nodded again. "But- it's only a sign. It just means that all the machinery is working fine. Now it's just a case of reapplying the consciousness, and that should go fine!"

Papyrus nodded, and then gasped when Mettaton's eyes went out.

"No- don't worry. That just means it's safe to start working on his… his brain."

 Papyrus nodded again.

"I AM GOING TO MAKE A CUP OF TEA. UNDYNE, HOW ABOUT YOU COME AND HELP ME?"

"Help you… make tea? SOUNDS ADVANCED, LET'S GO, NERD!"

They bustled out of the room, leaving Alphys to focus.

She disconnected the USB stick connected to the charging port, and inserted into the computer. It brought up a programme and she copy-pasted it back to Mettaton's processors. The lights in his eyes shone brightly once again, the USB flashed and Alphys could hear fans whirr, either in the old computer or in Mettaton's chest.

The programming was reinitiating, and then his 25 terrobites of memory started to download. She watched the downloading percentage creep up, ever so slightly. She was absolutely glued to it.

"Alphys?" Mettaton rasped, a few moments later. It felt like he'd been in a very long, deep sleep. Or a coma.

"Mettaton!!" She squealed, kneeling next to him on the floor and throwing her arms around him.

"What happened? Where are we?"

She released him from the hug, and looked at him.

Then she looked back up at the percentage, and frowned. His memory was not completely reinstated.

"Um, you had a panic attack, so I'm rebooting you. But, you shouldn't be awake yet, you don't remember everything yet!"

He was at 75% though. "But right now, we're in Papyrus' and Undyne's place! They've helped get us back from our car. Uh, because it ran out of charge. Because I didn't charge it."

He nodded, and leant back against the wall closing his eyes. He felt… severely hungover.

"Mettaton, what's the last thing you rememeber? Just for fun? Don't worry though, you still have like 25% of your memories to recover, so you'll get caught up-"

"Meeting Papyrus- that's the last thing I remember! And now I'm in his house?" He felt a little breathless. He knew it was silly, considering he'd only just met him, but he felt a little bit of a crush starting to build on him.

She smiled a little, because it wasn't often that she got to see Mettaton confused and not act as though he knew it all.

"So what did you think of him then?"

_Heh. It was like she was right there for him straight after they met._

"Alphys!" He cooed. "He's really cute! Like, he was so sweet! I think I was kind of a dick to him at first. Or awkward. I don't know, but I hope he didn't think I was too weird!"

And then he gained another percent of his memory, and his face squished up with confusion.

"Alphys, what are you still doing standing there? That was like yesteday? And you're still here? But I've been out of the house? Where am I again?"

"Mettaton, you're still having your memory rebooted, while we're having the same conversation! You should try and sleep through it!"

He nodded, and grabbed at his head. He shut his eyes, and Alphys remembered what she'd done wrong. She'd forgotten to apply the sleeping software so Mettaton wouldn't wake up and have his memory messed with.

She shrugged. It wasn't anything long term, just a little confusing, and clicked a key on the keypad. Instantly, Mettaton was in a deep sleep.

Papyrus and Undyne returned to the living room each holding two cups of… liquid? There was steam billowing from the mugs, but Alphys was not convinced that the brown liquid would end up being safe.

"WE RAN OUT OF COFFEE AFTER WE MADE METTATON'S DRINK, SO WE JUST MIXED EVERYONE ELSE'S WITH HOT CHOCOLATE. BUT THEN I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO FEEL LEFT OUT, SO THERE'S HOT CHOCOLATE IN HIS DRINK TOO!"

Alphys' eyes were drawn to the kitchen, and she could see the smattering of the powder cover the kitchen counter. Her brain felt sluggish and she couldn't get her eyes or thoughts to focus.

She took a sip of the hot coffolate, as it had been dubbed. It wasn't bad.

The drink sat in front of Mettaton, who remained impassive. Undyne was asking Papyrus if he was really allowed caffein and sugar at any time, let alone 3:00 am. They both agreed that there was no way that could go wrong, and started chugging.

"OH YEAH!! METTATON SAID YOU WERE AT SOME SCIENCE THING TONIGHT! HOW DID THAT GO?"

He seemed to be vibrating.

"Well, uh technically that was yesterday, now." With the memories of yesterday came the guilt that had been steadily creeping up on her.

She made the wrong choice. She'd been presented with two options, and she'd chosen the one that'd hurt her friend. Again.

"OH YEAH! NYEHEHE! STILL! I WANNA KNOW ABOUT IT! WAS IT FABULOUS?"

His questions were quick fire, and Alphys, by instinct, panicked.

"Babe! You should tell us how it went! It might, uh, bore Papyrus to sleep or something, so we might have like at least two hours before he officialily wakes up."

Undyne's eye was filled with affection, but immense sleepiness.

"Um… it was- it was okay! Mettaton was great on the st-stage, and everyone love him! A-and by extension… m-me."

They looked at her to keep going, but then she threw her face in her hands. She couldn't face their expectations.

"It was so horrible!! There's this h-horrible boy who shouted a-at Mettaton in the c-corridor about how he was a-" he looked from Undyne to Papyrus, unsure how to say it. "A- a _sex toy."_

Papyrus jolted and Undyne grinned murderously.

"A-and he said that he shouldn't be allowed in re-respectable places! It was awful! B-but then Mettaton, he just didn't l-let it get to him! It was so c-cool! But then he was upset in the c-carpark, and I- I was trying to h-help but some STUPID old human called him a g-girl, and upset him all over again!!"

She huffed out to breath.

"So that's when he had the panic attack? Damn- I don't blame him-"

"That's not all." Alphys interrupted, grimly. "I- I tried to help b-by taking the scenic route, you know, through the… hills. My car ran out of batteries, and that's when I d-d-discovered he was… agoraphobic. My phone ran out of b-battery, and his didn't have s-signal. So I t-took his ph-one. T-to call for y-you guys! And when I came back…"

She was telling the story to her mug of dubious contents. She felt so ashamed.

"Wow.." Undyne said after a long moment. "What a crappy night! Geez, someone up there must kinda hate that guy!" She gestured towards Mettaton with a deferential nod of the head.

"OR MAYBE IT JUST MEANS GOOD KARMA IS COMING HIS WAY?"

"Doesn't that kinda mean that Mettaton did something to deserve what happened tonight?" Alphys asked, wearily.

"UM.. I'M NOT SURE IF IT WORKS LIKE THAT. ALSO, ISN'T IT TECHNICALLY LAST NIGHT?" He laughed good naturedly, and was met with stoney silence.

Alphys, exhausted, just stared at Papyrus. She loved him, he was his best friend online, but it was 3:00 am.

She must have looked at him with a withering glare she was told she was capable of, because for a second he got the look of a kicked puppy, and looked away. Inconspicuously, of course, and then he took a seat on the sofa with his drink.

"WOULD- would you like to sit down?"

She needed a moment to process the words. She was very sleepy.

"Huh? Uh, y-yeah, thanks." She mumbled. She sat down. She leaned back in the sofa. She was asleep.

Undyne made eye-contact with Papyrus who promptly got up and left the seat for Undyne to move into and cuddle with Alphys. It was very cute.

Undyne, exhausted, gave Papyrus a sleepy thumbs up, stretched an arm around Alphys who snorted in her sleep, and joined her girlfriend the wonderland of sleep in an instant.

And Papyrus felt a tad lonely. Everyone around him was fast asleep, and there was nothing he could do about it. When he was younger, he'd had a habbit of prising Sans' closed eye sockets open when he was bored of lying awake in bed. After he caused his brother quite a major episode of some kind, he'd been scared out of doing that.

He cursed himself. A normal person would just go to sleep. Instead, he stalked around the kitchen, looking for something to clean.

He gathered the cups from the tiny living room, and poured the contents into the sink. He didn't much relish the taste of coffee, so for him the hot chocolate was merely tainted. But Unyne loved coffee, so he was doing his best to get used to its presence and maybe even come to love the drink.

He rinsed the mugs out, and felt a wave of nostalgia for when he introduced Undyne and Frisk, and challenged Undyne to befriend the small human. Maybe he just needed this for coffee. Someone to challenge him so the internal pressure to conform would overrule his likes and dislikes. Just what he needed!

He felt a little bit brighter as he quietly put the mugs into the cupboards, especially now he knew how to like coffee. Cool people drank coffee, so he needed to like it too. It was good for his career. Whatever that was going to be.

He fell into despair once he realised there was nothing else to do. Undyne was a surprisingly good flatmate, although it was entirely possible that Papyrus' impossibly high standards were met by a single redeeming quality- basic life skills.

There was never anything to clean up after. There were never any random socks left on the floor. Anything Papyrus asked her to take care of was done diligently and with the responsibility of someone who wanted to look after their friend.

It was almost depressing.

At a loss for what to do, Papyrus stalked back into the living room. There, he presently remembered Mettaton was sitting hunched by the computer in his living room. He put a hand to his mouth to repress what Alphys referred to as "squee".

For a moment, he let himself absorb his features. It wasn't something alien to him; he followed all of Mettaton's social media accounts, watched all his old tv shows constantly and fawned over his magazine appearances. He kept Mettaton figurines in his bedroom with his Mettaton posters. He didn't even feel close to strange when he was staring at his idol, sleeping.

He'd just never been this close before.

Just meeting Mettaton had felt like some life changing event, one that he'd promptly s c r e a m e d about when he'd returned home. But it was a chance meeting. Already a highlight of his life, there was simply limits to how much one can achieve, even someone as great as Papyrus. But now Mettaton had one upped himself and visited.

Papyrus' whole life was complete. He was 21 years old and there was nothing more that he could hope to achieve.

So he lay down, next to Mettaton so he could look into his face. It was very pretty, the photos and films and various fanart had done nothing short of insult Mettaton compared to his real life, unfiltered beauty.

Papyrus breathed out slowly. He was in shock.

His computer screen, which had faded to black whole minutes ago, suddenly lit up the room, wheezing for breath as it did so. Alphys' warnings about Mettaton's mortality ran tinny in Papyrus' mind as he stood up and tried to understand what was on the screen.

There was a graph that had suddenly gone through the roof, and lots of flashy red warnings. Papyrus looked over to Mettaton, who appeared as calm and still as a lake.

That didn't really help. The line on the graph steeped higher and turned red, but there was nothing explaining what Papyrus was being warned of, or how to fix it.

He found salvation in a little on-screen option labelled 'visualiser'. Surely, that would make things clearer.

Instead, a shaky image of the Judgement Hall filled up the screen, and Papyrus felt something hitch in his chest. He didn't know what he'd done, but he felt the sensation of guilt pour down him like a bucket of ooze. He knew instantly that'd he'd done something wrong, but pressing the escape key did nothing, no matter how passionately he pressed it. And waking Alphys now to help would make her hate him, even more than she already seemed to.

Papyrus stopped panicking and felt nothing but confusion when he saw the blurry silhouette of a tall skeleton. It had to be him? / He wondered what he was watching. He didn't understand.

He saw himself standing behind a camera, next to a shorter figure who had to be Sans. He was giving the screen a cheerful thumbs up, from behind a large camera, and knew that he'd be smiling buoyantly. He and Sans were both surrounded by different cameras, about five in total, and each handled by a different monster.

He felt strange watching this. He felt strange watching the vauge figure of Sans count down from three on ill-defined fingers.

It was weird seeing himself and Sans in sharp suits.

Then, a voice sounded from the screen, crackly and distorted, but undeniably Mettaton's. Papyrus felt his SOUL fill with butterflies, and turned the volume down, so that no one would know what he was doing. He felt especially guilty knowing that he had no idea what he was doing.

"It is with my utmost regret that I have to announce the King is dead."

His voice was heavy with something Papyrus couldn't place. Nothing about the sentiment seemed genuine, and certainly not regretful.

Something felt like remembering. _Something_ put a shiver down Papyrus' spine.

"But it is my honour and pleasure to announce myself, Mettaton the Gorgeous, as the new king! From now on, things are going to be looking up for us all! No longer will we live in the dark, dreary days! So what we don't have any more SOULS! We don't need them! We'll make the Underground so great, so fantastic, so spectacular that there'll be no need for us to go out to the surface at all! Who needs it anyway! And we'll have the humans simply dying to come join the fun!"

Papyrus suddenly realised what this was. Why Mettaton's voice came from behind the screen, instead of in front of it.

Papyrus was watching Mettaton's dreams.

"Now, the first thing that's in order is a celebration! As a community, we've all lost so much, more than we can hold in our collective minds, enough to break our collective hearts." He sighed forlornly, and the on-screen Papyrus nodded and pointed to a camera. The image on screen seemed to shift a little, perhaps indicating that Mettaton was now talking into a camera.

"So we deserve a party! We need to celebrate what was great about who we lost! We ought to celebrate the life of King Asgore, not focus on his death! We will celebrate our friends, our families, our children, our parents, our siblings. We will celebrate Alphys, our beloved Royal Scientist! Without her, the Underground would be devoid of it's very lifeblood; me! So, this Friday, in Hotland, the new capital, there will be a party. And it. Will be. Splendid! By order of Royal Decree, each and every one of you is invited, and that means _you_!"

He pointed into the camera he was facing, and the on-screen Papyrus pumped the air enthusiastically. The Papyrus sitting at the computer smiled weakly at himself. It's not like he could say he'd act any differently.

"And that, my darlings, really is a Royal order, and I will be making _examples_ of anyone who dares not attend their new king's first party."

There was a palpable silence, heavy with threat.

"Well, toodles, loyal citizens! Expect another chat before Friday! I hope we all have a Mettatastic week until then! Signing off!"

The cameras were clicked off by the monster camera crew, and Mettaton strode down the Judgment Hall. He was caught up with by an eager looking Papyrus.

"METTATON! SIR! WHAT A BEATIFUL SPEECH! THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN FOR MAKING ME YOUR AGENT! I WON'T LET YOU DOWN. ESPECIALLY AS YOU ONLY LET ME DO STUFF THAT LITERALLY ANYONE ELSE COULD DO!"

Papyrus cringed. If they were still back underground, then that had to make this dream the memory of an event at least a year old, and Papyrus knew he'd changed quite a lot in a year. He wasn't quite so obsessed with the good graces of the popular.

Papyrus heard non-committal murmering from Mettaton, and then a distinct sound of dismissal, at which the on-screen Papyrus bounded away cheerfully.

Mettaton suddenly whirled around to face Sans, the moniter blurring and spinning hazily. It made Papyrus feel a little motion sick, but he could clearly hear Sans speak. Papyrus gasped.

"i hated it."

"Oh really, Sans? Tell me, please, what *exactly* was your problem with it? Party not really your scene? Would you rather be knocking-"

"make an example of anyone and i will kick your ass."

Mettaton snorted, and then broke down into a little giggle. The image had resolution had improved so Papyrus could see Sans' face and feel a shudder. He was deadly serious.

"Well, I won't _have_ to make any examples! I'm the king! They'll all want to go to my party!"

"you're a fricking maniac if you think anyone's in the mood for that right now. it's been a _day_."

The camera seemed to get closer, and Papyrus deduced that Mettaton must have stepped forward and leaned into Sans' face. That wasn't exactly what Papyrus would call wise.

"And what a day it's been! Can you imagine how much fun we're all going to have had in a week?"

Sans stared, gritting his teeth.

"Go away." Mettaton ordered, standing up straight, making Sans look very, very small.

Sans nonchalantly turned around and shuffled away.

"Oh, wait now! Saans!"

He looked over his shoulder, looking completely done.

"Threaten me again, in absolutely any manor whatsoever, and I will make you regret it with whatever's left of you, after I pay someone to scrape you up of the floor."

Papyrus gasped again. He felt something in his eyes. He didn't even know monsters could talk like that, let alone to Sans.

He leaned forward in his seat, his fists clenching the edge.

"cool. see ya tomorrow, boss."

Without warning, the screen died. Simultaneously Papyrus heard a sucking gasp from the floor beneath the computer.

"Where the hell-?"

 Mettaton looked around for a second, and found Papyrus crouched up on the computer chair as if he were an elderly lady terrified of a mouse. Or some such cartoon trope.

He genuinely looked terrified though, but Mettaton relaxed when he saw him.

"Oh, silly me! I remember now!" He smiled politely, and Papyrus laughed politely back. Insincerely, and it sounded a little bit more like a short yelp. but he put his legs back down on he floor.

"Papyrus, this may be a little imposing, but you don't have a pen and some paper I can borrow, do you?"

For a moment, Papyrus looked as though he were debating whether or not he could move from the chair. Then he nodded stiffly walked into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a ball point pen and a few sheets of A5 paper torn out of some small notepad.

"There you go." He gave the stationary to Mettaton, who smiled gratefully and started to write immediately.

"Say, what are you writing about?" He tired to ask unsuspiciously.

"Oh," Mettaton stumbled for a moment and looked perturbed. "Just a dream I just had. I write them for my therapy sessions! Nothing too bad though!" He smiled winning lunar Papyrus again, who nodded.

"I USED TO HAVE THIS DREAM OF DRIVING A SUPER COOL SPORTS CAR ALONG THE HIGHWAY! THAT WAS- uh, great!"

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. Then down. Then nearly screamed because he remembered he was wearing his old favourite pink crop top with 'bad to the bone' cheaply printed on it, and a pair of denim shorts. Oh god. He wouldn't have worn his actual oldest clothes if he knew he was seeing Mettaton, even if it did turn out he was a little bit scarier than he let on.

He'd have put on the dating neck tie, at least.

"Papyrus?" Mettaton asked, a little conspiratorially. Papyrus flushed.

"Um, yes Mettton?"

"Do you prefer talking in upper case, lower case, or mixed case?"

Papyrus' fingers scratching the back of his neck balled into a fist.

He felt caught.

"Um, whatever you like to hear the most?" Papyrus was going to leave the country and never come back. It hadn't meant to sound so pathetic.

Mettaton laughed airily, and Papyrus flushed all over again, feeling stupider than ever.

"I genuinely don't mind! What's most natural to you?"

"UPPER CASE, DEFINITELY! BUT, I'VE HEARD THAT MY AWESOME VOICE KIND OF MAKES PEOPLE FEEL BAD ABOUT THEIR LESS COOL VOICES? A LOT OF PEOPLE TELL ME TO SPEAK IN MIXED CASES, BECAUSE I SUPPOSE IT ANNOYS THEM THAT THEY CAN'T SPEAK IN UPPER CASE. WHY ELSE WOULD THEY FIND IT ANNOYING?"

Papyrus, of course, knew exactly why people preferred him to speak in mixed cases. It's because humans spoke in mixed cases. At least, when they spoke at all.

"Well in that case, darling, you can speak in upper case around me! I think it sounds great! I used to be an uppercase myself…" He seemed pensive, and made a note.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Papyrus was drawn in, people rarely naturally changed their case.

"Oh… nothing awful… stuff, I guess…" Mettaton seemed lost in thought.

"WAS IT A GOOD DREAM?" Papyrus blurted out.

"I'm sorry?" Mettaton asked. Endlessly polite. Papyrus didn't understand that, he was ruthlessly biting on his TV shows, in between being charming and gorgeous.

"YOUR DREAM! THE ONE YOU'RE WRITING ABOUT? IT WOKE YOU UP, RIGHT?" Papyrus noted that Mettaton clutched the sheets of paper to his chest, and felt sick having saw what he saw, knowing that it was meant to be private.

"Oh, yes." He smiled again, this time there was no hint of anything besides pain. "My dream. Um, I suppose it wasn't the worst?"

"THAT'S GOOD THEN!"

There was an unhealthy pause that seemed to beat with it's own intensity.

"What did you see? How much? God. What do you think of me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, thank you for staying by this fic, even if the romance is hella slow burn!! It'll happen, I promise!! By the way- the dream machine technically exists! You can watch a video recorded of someone's dreams on YouTube! In my mind, Alphys has this feature purely for snoopy, non-ethical reasons that have been useful in getting Mettaton to cooperate and really… tell her what's on his mind! Eyyy sorry.


	8. Bad Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's happening! The cutening!!

Papyrus cringed. God, this wasn't going even close to plan.

"CAN I- CAN I SHOW YOU SOMETHING?" He asked, in a small voice.

Mettaton nodded, and stood up, ripping the cable from the base of his head.

"Ow."

Papyrus giggled, and Mettaton smiled at him.

That was… distinctly pleasant.

Papyrus checked the time, and felt a little more assured. It was 3:30 am, so they wouldn't bump into anyone. And the view would be spectacular.

Papyrus walked to the door, and checked to see if Mettaton was following. He was, just a step behind, and Papyrus held the door out for him. They walked to the lift, and got in.

Mettaton wrinkled his nose, and Papyrus laughed and nodded. God only knew what it smelt of, but it wasn't anything good. It was okay though, because it was only for a moment, and Papyrus caught Mettaton looking at all of the scribbles on the wall, with a half smile on his face.

Secretly, Papyrus felt giddy with the knowledge that they shared a similar sense of humour.

On the top floor, they gladly spilled out of the lift, ran out of the corridors to the fire escape, and breathed in the fresh(er) air. Papyrus lead Mettaton further up the fragile, wirey looking stairs, leaping up them. He skipped two at a time.

Mettaton clung to the rail, wishing he could keep up.

Eventually though, they made it to the flat, concrete roof of the building. It was miserable and populated by tv dishes and aerials. Mettaton couldn't possibly think of what they were doing there. He looked to Papyrus' slim figure for some idea of what to do, and saw him leaning on the rails, looking for down.

It was being friends with Alphys for years that made his heart leap into his mouth when he saw that.

"Papyrus?" He called out, warningly.

But when he looked over, he seemed happy. Or at least happy enough. And when he nodded Mettaton over, he found himself walking to the edge.

He didn't want Papyrus to tell him to look at the stars.

"WOWIE! I JUST LOVE COMING UP HERE AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT! I CAN'T BELIEVE ANY LIGHTS ARE STILL ON! OR THAT THERE ARE PEOPLE STILL UP AND AWAKE!"

"Well… I guess we are."

"WELL, WE KNOW WHAT _WE'RE_ DOING UP HERE! I WONDER WHAT THEY'RE DOING ALL THE WAY DOWN THERE."

Mettaton looked down at the fairy lights strung across the buildings, miles across. All orange and brighter than any stars, and all below his feet.

It was right where he (shouldn't) want to be.

Papyrus sighed next to him.

"Well,' Mettaton started gently. "Maybe _you_ know what we're doing up here, but um… I'm still a little in the dark." He gestured to the night sky that he refused to acknowledge, and chuckled.

"NYEH HEH HEH! YOUR PUNS ACTUALLY MAKE SENSE. I LIKE THAT."

A comfortable silence passed. The night was mild for January, but every night was fairly similar without flesh. All the same kind of not-cold.

After another moment, Mettaton realised that Papyrus was never going to bring this up on his own. And maybe Mettaton could be okay with leaving it all unsaid, until he thought for just one second what that did to him and Alphys. The regret left him bolder.

"Papyrus.."

The other monster looked away, and stared back down below. It was hardly what one could call a void, what with the hundreds of thousands living there, but it had the same affect as the abyss had once had on Alphys.

"…"

Mettaton sighed, and watched his breath float away into the night.

"Have you ever played twenty questions?"

Papyrus looked over at him with boundless enthusiasm.

 _Wrong,_ Mettaton thought, and evaluated for a second. Papyrus looked at him with a need to please.

The thought 'bad idea' was screaming in his head as surely as his battery warning. He slipped into low power mode and let the world give in to black and white.

"NO! IS IT A GAME OR A PUZZLE?"

Mettaton smiled gently.

"A bit of both! It's a human game, but I don't really know how to play properly. But my rules are that we both get ten questions each, and we have to tell the truth no matter what! Is that okay?"

Mettaton picked up on Papyrus' tight grip on the railing. He let his eyes linger on those skeletal fingers for a moment longer- fresh, daisy white against the grim metal. He wore pink knit fingerless gloves.

Mettaton could clearly see apprehension on Papyrus' face, but something pushed the other monster to nod his head.

"You can go first, if you like?"

Papyrus nodded again, and Mettaton braced himself.

"ARE YOU… ARE YOU MAD AT ME?" He asked in a small voice.

 It wasn't the question Mettaton was expecting, and he spluttered. "A little." He admitted.

Papyrus recoiled and Mettaton felt like trash. "But not so much now. I mean, it's not exactly a cool thing to do, but it's not the end of the world, really." Mettaton shrugged as if he could simply shrug off his feelings as easily as the glittery suit jacket he was still wearing.

Metaton felt something ache when he saw Papyrus lean all his weight against the rail, as if looking for some kind of support.

"Well, my turn!" He prompted, cheerily. "What do you think of me after seeing that?"

Papyrus stared at him, and Mettaton understood that his bright way of saying unpleasant things could be off-putting. But he kept his eye contact. He needed to know.

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE KIND OF SCARY? BUT ONLY WHEN I WAS WATCHUNG THE DREAM! YOU'RE JUST LIKE WHEN I MET YOU NOW! AND HOW YOU ARE WHEN YOU TEXT! SO I THINK YOU'RE GREAT, REALLY!"

Mettaton felt a smile creep on his face, genuine and pleased. Something inside him felt good knowing someone like Papyrus thought he was good.

"You're turn, darling!"

"AHA, YES! OF COURSE! UM… DO YOU KNOW WHAT ANY OF THAT STUFF WAS?"

Mettaton pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sort of… it was like a continuation of the first dream I had, yesterday. I was being crowned King then… But I really don't know what it means though. Sorry."

Papyrus shrugged. "YOUR TURN!"

Mettaton nodded.

"Forgive me if this is rude to assume… but is the other skeleton Sans? As in, your brother?"

Papyrus nodded wildly! "YES!! IT'S WERID HOW LITERALLY EVERYONE SEEMS TO KNOW HIM, BUT I KNOW HE WOULD HAVE TOLD ME IF HE MET YOU! WELL, AT LEAST I THINK HE WOULD!"

Mettaton hummed thoughtfully, and carried on staring at the street lamps on the floor, not as beneath him as they are in Westerlyn.

"OH! SORRY, MY TURN ISN'T IT! UM… HOW DID YOU MEET SANS?"

Mettaton chuckled, darkly.

"We were introduced last night, in my dream."

Papyrus looked concerned. "OH. THAT'S, UM, PRETTY FREAKING DISTURBING!"

Mettaton nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah."

"Papyrus, what do you think of me in general?" Mettaton cursed himself. Aching to know, yes. Ready to know? Fuck no.

"UM!" Papyrus blushed, and threaded his long phalanges together. "I THINK YOU'RE NICE! REALLY NICE!! AND FUNNY! AND KIND OF GORGEOUS, BUT AHAHA, WHO DOESN'T THINK THAT? BUT, YEAH! NICE, FUNNY, AND MURDEROUSLY HANDSOME."

Mettaton giggled, and Papyrus seemed to panic.

"WHAT ABOUT ME! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ME?"

Mettaton stopped laughing, and couldn't help but look Papyrus up and down in a way he knew was rude, but couldn't stop. Bad habit, hangover from being a ghost and invisable and free to judge anyone and everyone. Papyrus squirmed.

"I think your sense of fashion is honestly inspiring, darling! And I think you're the sweetest monster alive, and on the handsome side yourself!"

Papyrus flushed under the praise, staring at Mettaton like he'd given him the world. "BAD IDEA!!" Was a wailing din in Mettaton's inner retina.

"I'VE BEEN TOLD I HAVE A GREAT BONE-STRUCTURE!"

Mettaton laughed, and Papyrus joined in.

"I've never actually finished a game of twenty questions!"

Papyrus looked at him in shock.

"REALLY!!"

Mettaton laughed again, a little sadly.

"I know! But, well, the idea is that if you can't be friends in twenty questions, then…"

Mettaton struggled for a moment. Whenever he'd argued with Alphys, and they'd been close to blood, but they'd still always managed to sort their differences in less than twenty questions.

"THEN YOU TRY AGAIN THE NEXT DAY?"

Mettaton nodded. "Yes!! Exactly!"

"Papyrus, what city is this? I can tell it's not exactly New New Home."

"AH… IT KIND OF IS? WE'RE ON THE OUTSKIRTS, BUT WE STILL LIVE THERE!"

Mettaton nodded.

"BUT I GUESS WE'RE CLOSER TO SOUTHET. BUT REALLY, WE'RE IN MONSTERTOWN!"

For a moment, Mettaton didn't understand. Then it clicked. Clearly, Southet didn't have a good repuation. To be fair, Mettaton didn't think the world of the block of flats, but he already seemed to think a lot of Papyrus.

"Well. I am absolutely miles away from Westerlyn."

Papyrus laughed shyly and nodded.

Mettaton stole a glance. Maybe it was low power mode, or maybe it was just that Papyrus was the first person who'd seen a part of him that no one else had, and had moved on from if like it was no big deal. But either way, something about him was compelling.

"Papyrus?"

He snapped to attention in a way that left Mettaton uneasy for a reason Mettaton couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Do you fancy meeting up for a drink some time? Coffee shop, bar, nightclub, whatever your scene is!"

Papyrus' mind was a wheel that spun at a punishing rate, and it ground to a halt.

"SURE! LIKE A… FRIENDSHIP DATE?"

"Whatever you like." Mettaton reiterated.

"LIKE A DATE-DATE?" Papyrus asked, tentatively. He had a habit of misreading things, but he was sure the look in Mettaton's eye was confirmation. With one eye hidden under a thick side fringe, it was hard to tell, but Papyrus was certain Mettaton winked.

"Anything you like." Mettaton said, lowly.

Papyrus felt a rush. He put his hands in his short pockets, Sans always looked cool and casual when he did that, not overflowing with an uncontainable giddiness. Just like Papyrus was now.

"OKAY! OKAY, THAT SOUNDS GREAT! I EXPECT YOU'RE PRETTY BUSY, SO JUST TEXT ME WHENEVER YOUR FREE! OR, UM, WHATER!" Papyrus wanted to fight himself. Or at least let himself sound cool and stop getting in his own way like a dork.

"Sure thing, darling! You don't think we could go back inside now, I'm at like 6%."

"YES! ABSOLUTELY!"

Mettaton nodded faintly, and stepped away from the railing, only to collapse onto Papyrus, who was nearly bowled over.

"ARE YOU OKAY? SHOULD I CARRY YOU?"

Mettaton mumbled something like "forward, nice" under his breath, but nodded. He couldn't really put one foot in front of the other. He cursed himself.

Thanking whatever god there was, Mettaton didn't squeak when Papyrus swept him off his feet. He did shut his eyes, and maybe leaned into Papyrus' embrace, but he wasn't going to tell anyone that. Apart from Alphys when he told her every minute detail of this strange twilight encounter.

He was going to write an epic romance after this. It was going to be great, the whole Underground would be enraptured.

Mettaton frowned and checked his percentage. It made sense. At about 5% he always did start to get a little loopy.

"Papyrus, how fast can you run?" He breathed.

"VERY." He replied, before taking off into a sprint. Mettaton was not afraid to admit that he clung to Papyrus for dear life and with an iron grip.

In the lift, Mettaton felt his percentage drop to 4%. That was when he noticed he was speaking.

"Sorry, Papyrus, what was I saying?"

"I THINK YOU WERE SAYING I WAS CUTE, AND THAT YOU'RE GLAD I'M HERE, AND YOU'RE GLAD THAT I'M FRIENDS WITH ALPHYS BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT SURE WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF I HADN'T BEEN AROUND TO- YOU KNOW?"

Mettaton nodded. "Ah. Sorry about that."

Papyrus laughed again, and Mettaton noticed something.

"When you say nyeh heh heh, is that your laugh, or are you just saying it? Because you laugh different to that?"

He didn't know how to get words out properly, in the same way he'd lost control of his arms. His battery ticked down to 3%, even though his whole body's power had been minimalised to essentially paralysis. His greatest battery use was in his head.

"OH! I GUESS NYEH HEH HEH WAS MY CATCHPHRASE WHEN I WAS A KID! ALL THE COOLEST PEOPLE HAVE THEM, LIKE YOU! YOU ACTUALLY HAVE LOADS! YOU HAD A DIFFERENT ONE AT THE END OF EVERY SHOW!!"

Mettaton giggled airily. "So I did, darling!"

Papyrus suddenly slung Mettaton over his shoulder so he could find the key in his pocket and open the door. Mettaton hissed at the jarring movement, and Papyrus whispered his apologies a hundred times. He quietly locked the door behind him, and made a grab for Mettaton's charger in the plug next to the computer.

"Where're you taking me, Pyrus?"

Mettaton rolled his eyes. It appeared that at 2% he started to slur.

"THERE'S A CHARGER NEXT TO MY BED, AND YOU OUGHT TO SLEEP IN A BED, INSTEAD OF ON THE FLOOR!"

Mettaton wondered where Papyrus was going to sleep, but found he didn't have the energy to really care as he was lowered into the comfortable single bed.

It was when he realised that Mettaton's whole body was entirely limp that Papyrus realised that he might have a problem. He plugged the charger into the outlet next to the top end of the bed. He stared at the jack, and couldn't identify a suitable place to put it.

"METTATON?"

"Back the head, in my hair, top of my neck." He murmered. Papyrus felt panic.

"Well go on then." Mettaton whispered with as much encouraging energy as he could muster.

Fearfully, Papyrus touched the back of Mettaton's neck, and resisted the urge to run for six hundred miles. To his horror, he did not immediately find the charging port, which meant he had to continue to look.

"Up" Mettaton said. Quickly, Papyrus's touch met the base of Mettaton's skull and he found a small port. Sighing with relief, Papyrus plugged the charger in, and Mettaton breathed out.

A moment passed where Mettaton let himself charge up, and Papyrus just stared at him, worried.

"Sorry you had to… look after me so much tonight…" Mettaton's brow furrowed, but he kept his eyes closed.

"IT'S NOTHING! AND HAPPY TO HELP! YOU SHOULD, YOU KNOW, GET SOME SLEEP AND STUFF!"

Mettaton nodded, and patted the sliver of bed space next to him. An invitation?

"WHAT? NO WAY, IT'S ONLY QUARTER TO FOUR! I'M NOT EVEN TIRED!"

Mettaton patted the bed again.

"WELL… I SUPPOSE I COULD DO WITH AN EARLY NIGHT. BEAUTY SLEEP AND ALL THAT!"

In the darkness of the room, Papyrus couldn't see Mettaton smile. Instead, Papyrus lay down next to him, and felt a hand tangle in his own. Mettaton couldn't see Papyrus blush, but he had a feeling. A good feeling, despite all the warnings in his mind's eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? And, just to clarify. Town names Northerly, Easton, Westerlyn and Southet. Hmmmmmm!!!
> 
> Also, what do you think of the romance that's finally creeping in! Just to say now, this fic will not contain sex. But some pretty cute fluff is ahead!


	9. GIRL FIGHT (well, argue. A little)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaton and papyrus.. Share nothing. 0 interaction here. God, I suck.

Voices filtered through Papyrus' heavy sleep. He couldn't pick out what they were saying, but the sound was panicky. Yet, Papyrus felt as though reality lay across the room from him, separated by some lovely veil.

He couldn't figure out why he felt so at peace.

Having barely been aware that he was awake, Papyrus quickly drifted back to sleep.

Papyrus' mind once again tuned back into the world around him. This was a direct result of loud, boisterous laughter, and more gentle stuttering. Undyne and Alphys. He sat up in bed before opening his eyes, and found Undyne's imposing figure looming above him.

 "HI?"

When she just snorted with laughter, Papyrus looked over to Alphys. A feeling of confusion was distinctly settling over him. "UGH, WHAT TIME IS IT? IT'S GOTTA BE AT LEAST SEVEN A.M!!' He yelled with a cursory glance to the window.

"Papyrus!!" Alphys shouted. She had the look of someone trying desperately to emulate fierceness. Papyrus squinted at her.

"THAT SURE IS ME."

"Why- why the hell is Mettaton not where we left him?" She shouted, loudly. Papyrus stared at her blankly, marveling at how confident she sounded. She sure had worked on her insecurities.

"I probably should say- she's been kinda yelling all morning! Until I thought to ask if you knew and-"

Last night suddenly fit into Papyrus's memory like a sticky key that didn't instantly click.

"OH. OH!! HE WOKE UP IN THE NIGHT- THERE WAS A NIGHTMARE! THEN WE WENT TO THE ROOF FOR SOME AIR, BUT WE HAD TO COME BACK DOWN WHEN HE STARTED TO RUN OUT OF BATTERY AND-"

"Oh shit, dude." Undyne warned, with good humour. 

Alphys looked as though Papyrus had personally destroyed her anime collection. A frozen kind of toothy grin was stuck to her face, as jagged as a cliff.

"He WHAT!?"

 "WHAT? HE STARTED TO GET LOW ON CHARGE, SO I KINDA TOOK HIM… BACK HERE? THE FLOOR LOOKED UNCOMFORTABLE AND THAT MAN IS A LEGEND!"

Undyne looked like she was going to laugh again, but Alphys stared at her, while Papyrus rambled about what Mettaton had done for all of them, and why he totally deserved a bed and not a cramped little nook between the wall and the computer set.

Alphys started to pace the room, and cut Papyrus off abruptly.

"Okay.. Okay. So, he was took out of the area, he nearly ran out of charge- do you have ANY idea of the consequences?! And then he just went to sleep, like that? OH MY GOD- PAPYRUS!"

"THAT'S STILL ME, YES!" He was feeling far more alarmed though.

"Mettaton was definitely awake when you put him on to charge, right?" Her voice went from reprimanding to gently terrified so fast it gave Papyrus whiplash. There was too much shouting and feelings.

"YEAH! LIKE, REALLY SLEEPY, BUT DEFINITELY AWAKE. HE HAD LIKE, 2% SO HE WAS FINE, RIGHT?"

The was a pause where Alphys looked for all the world as if she would blow up. And then she did. She ranted furiously about the consequences of losing battery, and how Mettaton would be in the exact same position as yesterday, and would need to be rebooted, and the longer he went without his conscious, the greater the chance it would never be effectively be reapplied. "And you would have been SLEEPING next to it! Until whenever you got worried!! Until whenever I noticed something wrong!! AND IT'D BE TOO DAMN LATE!!"

Papyrus was sitting completely straight in bed, pressing his knees together.

He glanced at the motionless Mettaton, and felt a jolt go through him. He felt like dirt.

"I'M- I'M SO SORRY. I DIDN'T REALLY KNOW. HE REALLY DIDN'T ACT LIKE IT WAS THAT BIG OF A DEAL-"

"Of course he didn't!" Alphys shrieked. "He NEVER does!"

Undyne put a hand on her shoulder that Alphys shrugged off. She turned and stalked out of the bedroom.

Papyrus was left shaking, and Undyne sat on the bed next to him. She didn't know what to say. She didn't have to say a word. Papyrus leant against her, and quietly, so quietly she couldn't hear, started to cry. She felt his shoulders shudder against her. She brought an arm around him, and they remained silent for a little while.

When he felt the feelings of shame and injustice subside to mere sadness, Undyne suggested breakfast. Papyrus nodded, mopingly. She heartily clapped his back, and he laughed.

He and Undyne turned into the living room to find Alphys sitting on the sofa.

"A-ah. Hi." She started to sweat. "I… I made this for you?"

She smiled embarrassed, but offering a cup. Papyrus smiled and thanked her politely. He took the drink from the cup, without considering it. He bristled at the taste of coffee, but smiled gratefully.

"I'm so sorry for… well, flipping out at you! Mettaton…" she sighed. "Mettaton doesn't really seem to care that he's- well he's fragile!"

Papyrus recognized this. She was still talking, so he just nodded.

"A-and… he's…" she was at a loss for words. She looked to Undyne, who shrugged. Papyrus felt a little reassured knowing that he wasn't the only one out of the know. It made a change.

"He's really… it's not just is body- he's really messed up." She sighed, and pushed her glasses back up her snout.

Undyne laughed, not unkindly.

"C'mon Alph, like we're shocked!" Undyne joked. "So he's kinda fucked up- like we're not! Like Papyrus isn't! Like me and you aren't! It's no big deal!"

"I AM NOT FUCKED UP! I'M PERFECTLY FINE, THANK YOU."

"FUHUHUHUHUH, good one, Paps!"

Papyrus remembered Mettaton's nickname from last night, and blushed.

"Papyrus?" Alphys started, gently. "Mettaton's not just like, eccentric. He's messed up with stuff you don't know about. He's- he can be-"

He focused on her, and felt something defensive rise within him. He didn't nod, just stare. Alphys felt a chill go through her. A resolve died in her mind.

"He's been- he's- he can be difficult??" Yeah, it can be really difficult to be friends with him."

She sweated and felt Papyrus stare through her. 

Papyrus shifted his gaze, and sat on the sofa, next to her. Undyne hovered. She was like support, but for who exactly, no one knew. "I- I WANT TO FIGURE IT OUT FOR MYSELF. IF IT'S ALL THE SAME TO YOU."

He intertwined his fingers, and remembered that he woke up holding hands with Mettaton. He wanted to run away from this conversation and go and hold Mettaton's hand indefinitely.

"W-well. That's fine, I just wanted to warn you!" She was filled with despair and confusion. This had to be the right thing to do. But it felt so cruel.

"Babe, what's he actually done?" Undyne asked with gritted teeth. Papyrus felt her protection and for once just wanted to swat it away.

"W-well, he quits on people! And gives up on things! And he makes plans unexpectedly, but then he gets offended when you don't drop everything to go do everything he says! And he's never grateful, even if you do! P-papyrus, he's not the healthiest person you can date… he c-can be, k-kinda toxic, really.."

Papyrus squeezed his own hands hard.

"WE’RE NOT DATING YET, THAT’S NEXT TIME WE MEET UP. BUT THANKS FOR THE ADVICE!" He told her, brightly, and bluntly. "WHAT TIME DOES METTATON USUALLY GET UP?"

"O-oh, he's designed to only wake up when he's at 100%… s-so, if he got down to 2% last night, he'll probably be awake at… eleven? Ish?"

Papyrus' jaw dropped to the floor.

“OH! MY GOD! WHY?”

Alphys narrowed his eyes at him. "Well because somebody- wait hang on a second-"

"WHAT TIME IS IT NOW, EVEN!” Papyrus asked, shocked. He hadn’t felt so groggy since the morning after he discovered alcohol with Undyne on one of the first few nights on the surface.

“Uh, like h-half nine. B-but-“

“HALF NINE!!” He was deeply shaken. He hadn’t slept that late even when alcohol’s shocking side effects had made themselves very, very present.

“Fuhuhuhu, welcome to the normal time of day, dork. It’s been a long time coming!”

Papyrus swatted her playfully, and she noogied him. Alphys watched the playfight with her mind elsewhere.

“Mettaton’s not designed to wake up when charging.” She mumbled. “Either some critical software is starting to corrupt, or… or you put him into VISUALIZOR MODE. Papyrus, does that ring a-any bells... at all?”

Papyrus nodded enthusiastically. “YEAH, THE COMPUTER LIT UP WITH ALL THESE GRAPHS AND WARNINGS, BUT THEN VISUALIZOR MODE SHOWED UP, SO I PRESSED IT AND THEN I SAW SOME OF HIS DREAM, AND IT WAS PRETTY MESSED UP. BUT IT WAS FINE. IT WAS KINDA WHY HE WANTED SOME AIR, SO YEAH.. THAT’S WHY.. NYEH HEH HEH.. THE ROOF...”

He blushed and stopped attacking Undyne, who pinched his cheekbone.

“Get in there, nerd!!”

Papyrus laughed hysterically, and hid his face with his hands. It had limited effect on hiding his blush.

“UNDYNE, NO!! IT WAS JUST- WELL, I DON’T KNOW REALLY. HE _DID_ ASK ME OUT ON A D-DATE!” He squealed happily, and hugged his knees. Undyne patted him affectionately, and grilled him about what happened, which he explained at length with growing enthusiasm.

And all Alphys could feel was a mounting fear… for Papyrus.

“Are you sure he meant a d-date? Like, he’s r-really flirty, you’re positive that’s what he m-meant?”

She sounded concerned, but Papyrus started to feel annoyed. But he didn’t want to upset his friend, even if she had upset him a whole lot over the past 24 hours.

“YEAH I’M PRETTY SURE, OKAY.”

She cringed, visibly, and Papyrus hated himself.

“I- I just d-don’t want you to get h-hurt… I can t-tell you r-really like him and-“

“Hey Alphys? Papyrus’ is kinda old enough to get his heart broke by a gorgeous actor-tv personality- rock god- sex symbol. He’ll be fine, okay!”

“Y-you’re only saying that so you can beat him up, though???”

Undyne laughed and nodded her head. “YUP! I can’t beat up anyone here, and it SUCKS!”

Papyrus laughed, but hoped that no one beat up Mettaton. He recalled Frisk’s fight with the robot, and thought about how violent a fight with Mettaton would really be. He drummed his fingers against his knee cap, fast.

Mettaton fell apart against frisk, and they never even hit him. And it wasn't even like they got out unscathed- they'd survived with 1hp, which just drove the crowd _wild_!

He listened to Undyne rant about the injustice of not being allowed to start a FIGHT with all the scumbags she lays eyes on, and to Alphys try and soothe her. He looked at them, and felt an ache. He wanted that. He wanted the affection and the ease of the conversation, and the romance.

He'd had that last night, right? Something just like it, at least.

He checked his phone, and found it was only just creeping towards ten. It’d be hours before Mettaton woke up, and then a thought hit him. Would it be nicer to have Alphys’ car ready and waiting for him, or would it be better to have Mettaton come with them so that they could spend more time together?

He voiced the question, and Alphys quickly told him that it’d probably be better to get the car now, so that Mettaton wouldn’t have to be back in the open. He nodded, but felt vaguely disappointed. Mettaton would want to go straight home, and then Papyrus wouldn’t have the opportunity to hang out with him for a few more hours. But it was definitely for the best, of course.

And then there was the challenge of actually getting the car down from the hillside. It certainly was the scenic route, so it wasn’t like it was going to cause a disturbance to the roads, but that only meant that it’d be difficult to get it down themselves. Undyne reveled in the challenge, and also demanded that Papyrus come with her to learn how to be a warrior. Papyrus reminded her that there was no more Guard to train for, but did decide to go with her.

Even if it meant that he didn’t get to be alone with Mettaton.

It didn’t _really_ bother him, he wouldn’t be awake for hours, and at least he wouldn’t have to be alone with Alphys. She seemed to be in a very strange mood. In fact, he could go talk about his feelings with Undyne, who was always helpful in a very… explosion inducing way. 

As soon as the door shut Alphys checked her watch. The clock ticked over to 10 am, and Mettaton awoke with a short scream.

He was bang on time.

Alphys walked over to Papyrus’s room, and knocked the door.

“Come in, darling!” He called out sensuously. She pushed open the door to find him with the duvet artfully draped over him, while he posed sensuously. His face lit up, then sagged when he took in Alphys’ profile.

“Oh, sorry Al, I was expecting someone else.” He said, slightly bitter.

“Yeah, he’s gone to pick up the car.” She told him coolly. “Why’d you tell him you’d go on a date with him?”

“Jesus,” he whined, and flopped back onto the bed. Alphys noted he was still wearing his blazer and dress shirt. It was somewhat reassuring. “I don’t know, why’d you think, genius?”

She looked at him piercingly, and promptly crumbled. She mumbled a whole lot of nothing Mettaton could hear.

“Hm, darling?” He batted her arm, teasing.

“No, Mettaton, this is serious! I know you think he’s cute and all, but do you actually wanna date? Because I think Undyne might actually kill you for fun if you disappoint him, and like… no one can disappoint that face?”

Mettaton sighed and looked away. “I’m capable of a date, Alphys. No, I’m not going to have any strange expectations, I’ll keep the conversation two sided, and I will be nice. Who knows, maybe I’ll be lucky enough to have another.”

He spoke completely monotonously, and Alphys fell apart.

“I don’t mean it like that!” She stressed. Mettaton looked back over to her. “I’m just- Christ, are you sure you’re ready? He’s kinda full on!”

“Alphys, honey, it’s a _date_. Not a marriage proposal. We might be friends, it might wind up being something, but please… just stop, okay. _I’m_ not going to be a self-absorbed maniac, and _you’re_ not going to be a controlling maniac. I think that was our pinky promise!” He added, affectionately and gave her a half smile, which she returned weakly.

“Talking of Papyrus, where did you say he was?”

“Oh! Yeah, he’s out with Undyne trying to sort the car out."

Mettaton swooned dramatically. "Oh! So manly!"

Alphys giggled, and Mettaton laughed with her. God his friend was strange.

She could say the same thing.

"So, what were you dreaming about? He didn't seem too worried, by the way!"

Mettaton lowered his eyes. She must have seen the brief moment of panic.

"Ah, they're for me to know about, my therapist to pick apart, and for you to worry endlessly about." He told her, dramatically to hide the sincerity.

She laughed and asked him again, and brushed her aside. Again. He hadn't had another King dream, which was interesting. Instead it was the regularly scheduled Flowey torment. He couldn't tell if it was real or something he fabricated, and he didn't care. He was crushing a small defenceless monster under his boot, and laughing with Flowey. He was at LV 3 in his dreams.

He CHECKED hus stats when he woke up. Still LV 2. Still a reminder. Still felt sick.


	10. hey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> …more fluff… more filler… forgiveeee meeeee

Alphys drifted over to the kitchen to grab a coffee, and Mettaton floated after her. They were chatting in the kitchen, about nothing pressing. She was teasing him gently about his crush, and he was teasing her about anime. It was a safe rhythm that kept them out of conflict. Undyne called her phone though, and Alphys wandered off into another room.

Mettaton stayed where he was, listening to her inflection change. She stuttered less around Undyne. Her voice got squeakier around Undyne. She blushed more around Undyne.

Mettaton's mind stayed firmly on Papyrus. He'd been shocked to not wake up next to him. More than he thought he would. Of course, it would be unusual for the homeowner to slip out from bed, never to be seen again, but Mettaton was beginning to think Papyrus would do anything.

Alphys had asked him about his memories, and thinking of the past three days made his head twist just a little. Alphys promised she'd put the memories back in order for him when they got home, and Mettaton said he'd think about it. He would like to be able to think of these days without the deep confusion setting in, but at the same time, he felt some kind of existential dread whenever he thought about how easily his mortal experience could be manipulated.

He'd think about it. It'd probably keep him up at night.

Mettaton was bored in the kitchen. He opened the fridge. It was split down the middle with some white duct tape. On the left there was nothing but tupperware containers of what looked like spaghetti, and on the right there was fresh ingredients for a wide variety of food. Mettaton stared at it blankly for another moment, noted that he was not a particularly clever robot and was therefore incapable of drawing any conclusions, and shut the fridge door.

He grabbed the coffee Alphys made for him, and sauntered into the living room. He nearly dropped it when he found an intruder sitting on the sofa.

"what the fuck?" The other monster muttered, surprised but not scared. The intruder had the audacity to be as shocked as Mettaton was. He remained frozen in the doorway. Mettato goggled, and took in the profile of the skeleton before him. It was ridiculous. He was so short that his faded, fluffy pink slippers didn't touch the threadbare green carpet. He was wearing three quarter length sports shorts, and a greyed out t shirt that swamped him.

Mettaton swallowed panic as the second dragged on.

"oh, sorry.. uh, knock knock."

"Who's there?" Mettaton asked reflexively. The monster before him stared.

"that one wasn't a joke. i just should have knocked. when i, you know, let myself in."

Mettaton stared for a moment more. He thought he might just scream and call the police anyway.

"oh, by the way, i'm sans. forgot we hadn't actually met in person, heh."

And then the penny dropped, and Mettaton exclaimed an over-exaggerated "Oh! Why, yes, of course darling! Papyrus's brother!"

And Sans nodded, apparently unoffended. "so what are _you_ doing in my bro's house?"

Mettaton froze again, smile in place.

"There was a car accident, Sans."

"uh huh. that sucks. thank god you have the extra hp, right?"

He sank back into the sofa, and focused on the tv. Apparently a narrative that starts with a car accident and ends with taking superstars and scientists into a two person flat was obvious enough for Sans to follow. It was like figuring out what happened to an apple between coming loose from the branch and hitting the groun.

Mettaton nodded before suddenly feeling the air flood out of his lungs.

"Wait what?" He asked in a small voice.

"you're at lv 2, right?" Sans asked, conversationally.

Metaton's fingers went lax and the mug slipped from his grasp.

He stared at Sans, horrified, when the front door flung open and Undyne and Papyrus poured into the small space.

"oh, shit, are you like, sensitive about it?" He laughed, embarrassed. "jeeze, three minute chat and i've already offended him!" He looked over at Papyrus, who shook his head disapprovingly.

Mettaton could only look on. He was thirty percent sure he was having an out of body experience.

"OH MY GOD, SANS! WHAT'VE YOU DONE NOW?"

"well, i said knock know, and he said who's there and i-"

"I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT WANT TO KNOW ANYMORE. GOD, METTATON, DO NOT JUDGE ME! THIS IS SANS' THING!"

Mettaton laughed weakly.

"OH NO!! YOU DON'T _LIKE_ PUNS, DO YOU?"

"please, i learned everything about puns from this guy's tv show. course you like puns!"

Mettaton nodded, which appeared to appease both skeletons.

"What do you mean you're in the fla- oh." Alphys walked into living room, to find four faces looking at her. She flushed.

Papyrus waved at her. She waved back. Undyne blew a kiss. Alphys giggled and flapped her hands comically.

Sans watched tv, and Mettaton stayed on the edge of the room, as terrified as he could be without making himself conspicuous.

He caught Papyrus' eyes several times, and the other monster looked like he desperately wanted to start a conversation, but was fishing for something to talk about. Under more usual circumstances, Mettaton would obligingly start a conversation himself. As they were, Mettaton watched Papyrus flounder while he tried to recover from the horror that was Sans.

He'd managed to convince himself that Sans was absolutely not reffering to his Level Of Violence, and meant something, anything else. It was impossible for a monster to know each other's EXP or LV. It wasn't something you saw when you CHECKED, and it certainly wasn't something you could just… infer.

He took short seconds to evaluate Sans. He seemed laid back, spoke gently and was utterly absorbed in TV. It was a cooking show.

Mettaton felt nothing but disdane for it. Of course, he knew his TV was campy and trite, but at least it was interesting. In this show, there was no killer robot, no plot twist, no drama! There was so much potential for tragedy when making a cake, and this show exploited no opportunity for character development, or even a plot.

Humans just didn't know how to make a good TV show. Somewhere within him, passion for broadcasting quality entertainment was stirred within him, and that sloshing ice-bucket of dread was displaced to the back of his head. Before he knew it, he was enraptured in the show, making mental notes on what made it so shockingly bad.

"OH! METTATON! YOU LIKE COOKING TOO? I NEVER KNEW THAT!" He sounded charmed, and Mettaton smiled.

Sans laughed, Papyrus sent him a look, and Mettaton completely ignored it.

"Well, personally I think this one's quite lacking in plot, but I suppose the execution makes up for it- oh my, that cake looks almost real!" He marvelled at the glossy shine of the cake. The personalities labelled it a mirror-glaze cake, and Mettaton was salivating.

"ALMOST?"

"Oh, no food on TV is real, darling! None at all! It's an old trick I learned back down below!" He said, as if talking about a juicy scandal. Papyrus realised Mettaton said everything like he was divulging a secret.

"WOWIE! I NEVER KNEW THAT, EITHER!"

Sans scoffed. "yeah you did, bro."

Papyrus crossed his arms. "SANS I HAD NO IDEA THE FOOD ON TV WASN'T REAL. HOW DARE YOU LIE LIKE THIS!"

"nah, i remember. once the camera was rolling when metts chucked a cake at one of the camera guys, and it knocked them out. after that you started making them out of styrofoam, right?"

Mettaton laughed, too high pitched. Alphys jumped. "Ahaha- yes, so I did! But he was actually on sound and kept getting the boom in shot, and the team's energy was so bad that day. Ah, but I'm sure Papyrus doesn't remember _every_ line of my show though?"

"well actually-"

"METTATON, BY THE WAY, WE TOTALLY FIXED YOUR CAR AND IT'S OUTSIDE AND I'LL WALK YOU TO THE CAR RIGHT NOW OKAY THAT'S GREAT BYE SANS"

Mettaton laughed, while Alphys stuttered about how it was, in fact, her car. Undyne kissed her passionately before she left. Mettaton nudged Alphys as they left.

Papyrus walked them down the stairs, claiming the elevator was completely out of order. Though Mettaton suspected this was merely a ploy for just a little bit more time together, he was happy enough to oblige Papyrus. That, and he didn't want to take his chances with a lift that may be even a little dodgy. Papyrus pointed out interesting pieces of graffiti, and Mettaton laughed with him and was happy enough to pay attention to the things he thought were cool.

It was a little disarming for Papyrus, and his response was overjoyed. It alarmed Mettaton just a little, but it was only a nagging feeling. No panic yet.

When they'd finally descended all the steps in the flat, and had waited for Alphys to catch up to them, Papyrus had no idea how to say goodbye, even as they stood outside next to the fateful car. So Mettaton finished it with a wink and a promise about next week, which left Papyrus vaugely inarticulate. Mettaton couldn't help but laugh good naturedly.

And then Mettaton was waving goodbye and Papyrus was but a blur in the distance. Mettaton sighed, happily.

He looked over at Alphys when he started screwing with the radio dials, looking for something to tune into. And Alphys was looking at him with eyes full of stars, and Mettaton knew what that look meant.

"Darling, no.."

"Darling yes!" She cried.

"Darling! Noooo!!"

She nodded fervently at him with her self-satisfied beam and wild eyes.

"I-"

"Alphys, darling, respect yourself instead-"

"I SHIP IT! No going back now!! I think you too are cute!! And should totally date- o-or something?" She giggled, losing her confidence. Mettaton rolled his eyes, but felt affection for her.

A synth heavy pop song filtered through the radio, and Alphys bobbed her head unconsciously. Mettaton found that he was tapping his feet to the rhythm too.

" _Now_ you think we're cute together! Alphys, I could have told you that myself. Oh wait, I think I did!"

She looked ashamed and distraught for a moment, despite his light voice. "You, ah, _dingus_." He added. It was a word they decided on to convey that what they were saying was absolutely not meant to offend. It was an effective system, as long as it absolutely wasn't abused.

"I- I really am sorry though, Mettaton. But after seeing you together!!" She brightened up immediately and a great, soppy smile played on her face. "I've never seen you like that before."

"I've never met Papyrus before," he breathed. He could feel her stare though. He knew she'd heard. Embarrassment radiated from him. Even though he couldn't blush, his processors worked so quickly he was warm to the touch. The faint whir of fans was telling.

"Awwwwwwwwwhh!!" She cooed, and Mettaton tapped her playfully.

Mettaton did feel ridiculous about his feelings. He felt aware of the idea that a more sensible person with a less twisted life may well have just made the object of their affection theirs. But Mettaton… he felt shy even talking about Papyrus, how ever comfortable he felt talking to the man. And he was already worried about the date for a week away- he was running through places and outfits that will impress and please. It took both of them a solid five minutes to remember that was exactly not helpful and the exact mindset both of them were trying to escape.

It left the same sticky discomfort in the air as bitching about someone behind their back.

It was in this exact moment of guilt that Mettaton's phone rang, and he picked it up without registering the unknown number.

"hey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm sorry that there are still spelling errors and bs like this, it's just that this is entirely unbeta'd and using my laptop would take way more production time! One day, I will be going back and updating this entire fic- but until then- I'm so sorry!


	11. A Random Feeling Of Illl-Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's mad. :)

"Oh hello darling, you're through to Mettaton, how can I help you and do you feel personally blessed?"

"… um" / Alphys looked at him through the corner of her eye, and grinned.

"Sans, how did you get this number exactly?"

"my bro gave it to me."

Mettaton arched an eyebrow, and put his feet up on Alphys' dash. His heels pressed into the windscreen.

Strength position completely wasted on Sans, but Mettaton felt fucking great.

"okay, gave's a strong word. it doesn't really matter."

Mettaton remained silent, not wanting to give anything away.

"anyway, i just wanted to ask about your love."

Mettaton frowned with distaste. "I'm sorry, what?"

Sans cleared his throat, embarrassed on the end of the phone, and Mettaton felt a little proud. He was glad that Sans was somewhat like a person; fallible like the rest of them.

"not, jeeze, not love-love, like LOVE. level of violence. why do you have lv 2?"

Mettaton clenched his teeth and let out a tense sigh.

"I'm kinda busy right now, so can we talk about this some other time-"

"nah, I'm busy too. i'm on my way to first shift, so, uh, tell me why a murderer is going after my bro."

Mettaton gripped the phone tightly in his hand. It was thin metal and glass, it'd shatter if he held on much tighter. His other hand was a fist.

"I'm not going after anyone."

"oh really. because that's not what it looked like, that's not what he thinks is going on, and it's not what's happening until i find out why you decided to kill people."

Mettaton's eye twitched. He told himself to be calm. He took a deep breath.

He didn't know when he started, but suddenly he was screaming down the phone.

"First of all, this isn't about you! You can't just choose who your brother dates! It's his life, for god's sake! Second of all, you really don't need to know! It's fucking personal okay? So keep your _creepy_  eyes to your self, alright!"

"hey- it's not like i wanted to see it. and i get it, okay. i just want to keep my brother safe and not like, god, i dunno, chopped up in a crazy guy's basement."

"Do you have any idea how insulting you're being right now? I am _not_ just a crazy guy!"

Mettaton also resented the chopping up in a basement, but he could only cope with one thing at a time..

"eh, sorry," he said, not sounding even vaugely regretful. "nice priorities, by the way. don't mind the basement, just the crazy part, huh?" Mettaton's eyes bulged, and his teeth ground together. "uh, i'll keep it to three questions."

Mettaton squared his jaw, and agreed. "Fine." He spat.

"when was it?" Sans asked, quickly. The idea of telling him last weekend floated through Mettaton's mind, but decided against it.

"Four years ago, in the summer." He offered, reluctantly. He didn't say June the 10th, 211X.

"right." Sans sounded less harsh, and comparitively, less panicked when he asked his next question. "was it a kill or be killed situation?"

Mettaton collapsed back against Alphys' car seat. He really thought about it.

"That's one hell of a question, Sans." He muttered, all the fight drawn out of him. He felt terrible thinking of that day.

Flowey'd… taken him on a fan meet and greet. Said his stats were altogether too weak for the rough life of a superstar, and that show bizz was all about stepping all over everyone. Mettaton had thought it was about making other people happy, and Flowey had laughed in his face. June the 10th had been about learning. And Flowey had been there, watching him cajole people into splitting off from the queue for a quick second- and that's all it took. Of course, it was on the ninth that Flowey'd proposed it, and Mettaton thought he was going to faint. He'd shrieked no before he even thought not to, and it had cost him his retina screen and wheel for most of the day.

"I _suppose_ I was. I certainly wasn't in a position to not… I should have fought harder though, tried better…" he looked resolutely out of the window, away from Alphys' shooting glances, loaded with worry. She'd know what he was talking about by now.

"right. well, last question. did you, uh, enjoy it?" He asked it as if the question itself disgusted him.

Mettaton was certainly revolted.

"What?!" He yelled, furious all over again. "Who exactly do you take me for?"

"dude. no, this isn't personal. i'm asgore's judge, so i kinda see a lot of murderers. and they tell me that they feel terrible about killing people, really, really awful." Sans sounded completely apathetic. "but then they said it felt kinda good too. fun. that's what one of the kids said. someone else said that getting the stats boosted was addictive, and he just couldn't stop killing, that nothing else made him feel happy."

Mettaton felt like there were a million moths trapped inside his casing, fluttering and crawling inside him.

"And you think I'm… like _that_?"

"to be honest, mettaton, i don't know what you're like. you're nothing like your tv show persona, but it's not like i've got anything else to go off, y'know?"

Mettaton nodded, dryly. He supposed having Frisk's attempted murder televised across the underground was distinctly not helping him. Or having at least three shows dedicated to the premise of creative murder. But they were comedies! And, though he'd never tell anyone, they might well have been his twisted way of trying to process exactly what he'd done.

"cooking with a killer robot." Sans chuckled. "nice touch."

And he hung up, leaving Mettaton breathing in to argue, and without a word to say.

Mettaton didn't even breath out to avoid screaming. He tried to call back, but his phone wasn't even registering that he'd had a call, not even from an unknown number.

"What kind of fuckery is this, Alphys?" He demanded, as she stared out at the miles long traffic jam.

"O-oh jeeze, Mettataton, no one understands Sans' stuff. He's… I dunno, he's just kind of weird?"

"You can say that again, what the fuck was that? Who the fuck does he think he is?" Mettaton ran his hands through his fair, and then violently balled his fists. Alphys shrieked and batted at his hands, and Mettaton didn't care. Probably because he wasn't the one who had to sew in every hair.

"I- I- I meant like space and time, magic-science paradox weird. N-not behavioural weird, but I suppose he's th-that too, I guess?" She giggled nervously, and Mettaton drew himself up to look at her.

"You're just saying words now, darling." He said, flatly. Alphys opened her mouth to argue, when Mettaton's phone started ringing again.

"What?" He yelled down the phone.

"THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, 'WHAT'? ASSHOLE!" Undyne roared back at him.

"How did you get this goddamned number!?"

"I stole it, dumbass! Now what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Mettaton strongly resisted the urge to say 'Papyrus' and hang up. "Jesus, I don't know! Commit frickin genocide, apparently?"

And Undyne just screamed down the phone some more. And Mettaton was in quite the mood to shout right back at her.

"-AND IF YOU BREAK MY PUNK'S HEART, I SWEAR TO GOD THE POLICE WON'T FIND YOUR STUPID METAL CORPSE!"

"Papyrus is a damned adult who doesn't need his ugly baby sitter to protect him, so just leave me alone, okay, darling?"

He hung up on her. Yet, she had the wherewithal to keep calling back to shout some more.

Mettaton eventually figured out that her problem was that she thought he wouldn't take Papyrus seriously because he was so self-centered, and Papyrus would feel rejected and sad when Mettaton, inevitably, didn't spend all of his time and effort on him. Naturally though, this message was pieced together through about an hour long shouting match, and only ended when Mettaton just threw the phone through Alphys' car window.

"I'm sorry, darling, I'll pay for it. I just couldn't take it anymore." He kept his eyes fixed on the traffic, and his voice quiet after all that shouting.

"It's okay, Mettaton. I- I don't r-really get why she's so mad?"

They weren't moving at all. Travelling to, from, around or in Westerlyn was a mess.

"I understand Sans, he knows I'm a-" he sighed. He couldn't bring himself to say it. He didn't need to. "But Undyne? She doesn't like me, but that seemed a little excessive, to be honest."

"Mettaton, I'm pretty sure she was just angry about being called ugly, and- uh, the rest of it."

Mettaton agreed with her, sadly. He slumped back in the chair, pathetically. He felt like trash. Alphys' phone rang next, and she handed it to Mettaton to pick up. He looked at her imploringly, but she jerked her head at the wheel, indicating that she was driving.

"We're not even moving." He scowled, but recieved the phone call. "Hello?"

"HI METTATON!" It was Papyrus on the other end of the phone, and Mettaton breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh hello there honey, I'm sorry, I didn't recognise the emojis Alphys put for your contact details." He giggled, and Papyrus laughed too.

"WELL, IT WAS ACTUALLY YOU I WANTED TO CALL! I TRIED YOUR PHONE, BUT I COULDN'T GET THROUGH!"

Mettaton didn't tell him that it was probably twenty miles down the road and run over by unlimited cars and vans and trucks.

"Oh, that's funny! Well, you're through to me now!" He said, cheerily.

"YEAH…" Mettaton felt uneasy, there was something apologetic in his voice, and Mettaton didn't like that.

"UM, I KNOW UNDYNE'S PRETTY MAD. YOU MIGHT GET AN ANGRY CALL, SO, UM, I'M REALLY SORRY! ABOUT THAT! EVEN THOUGH NEITHER OF US DID ANYTHING WRONG."

"Darling, you wouldn't happen to know why she's mad, would you?"

"MY PERSONAL THEORY IS THAT SHE HIT HER HEAD ONE TWO MANY TIMES IN TRAINING."

Mettaton thought for a moment, then giggled. "I meant- I meant angry!"

"NYEH HEH HEH, I KNOW REALLY! BUT, I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHY SHE'S SO STRESSED ABOUT THIS. SHE DEFINITELY DOESN'T HAVE PRE-CONCIEVED IDEAS ABOUT HOW YOU MIGHT TREAT SOMEONE YOU WERE DATING! AND SHE CERTAINLY HASN'T JUDGED YOU BASED ON THE WAY YOU'VE TREATED ALPHYS!"

Mettaton was silent for a moment. He supposed that made some awful kind of sense. He'd been a shitty friend to Alphys, their friendship had been mutually parasitic and drained the life out of each other. And in a romantic relationship? And with someone as apparently naive as Papyrus? A truly awful kind of sense.

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT TOO MUCH, IT'S PROBABLY JUST A RANDOM FEELING OF ILL-WILL! SHE HAS THEM REGULARLY ENOUGH!"

"Really?" Mettaton asked, skeptically.

"UM. NOT REALY. SHE'S ACTUALLY REALLY POSITIVE ABOUT EVERYTHING, APART FROM HUMANS, YOU, AND A GENERAL LACK OF FEROCITY. SHE REALLY HATES THAT!"

"Right." Said Mettaton, feeling dejected all over again. It made sense that Alphys had talked about him to Undyne. They were girlfriends, you were meant to talk about the things that hurt you. And to Undyne, he was just a thing that had already hurt someone she loved. She just didn't want to let it happen again.

"SHE HASN'T CALLED YOU ALREADY, BY ANY CHANCE?"

Mettaton panicked for a moment, and wanted to tell him that of course she hadn't. But then he remembered that a whole lot of what hurt Alphys started with a little lie just like this.

"I'm afraid so, darling."

"OH MY GOD, I TOLD HER NOT TO CALL AT ALL!! OR TO AT LEAST WAIT UNTIL I CALLED YOU FIRST! OH MY GOD, WHAT WAS SHE LIKE?"

Mettaton laughed, hollow. "Loud. Very loud."

Papyrus sighed. "I'M SO ANNOYED SHE DID THAT! BUT I KINDA HAVE TO GO, SHIFT'S STARTING! GOD KNOWS I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY _FULFILLING_ _AND INSPIRING_ SUBWAY JOB! I'LL TEXT YOU LATER?"

He sounded hopeful, and Mettaton felt glad. Glad to know that whatever Undyne must have told him wasn't enough to stop him from wanting to know anything about him.

"Absolutely darling! Have a good shift!"

"YOU TOO!" And then, faintly, heard Papyrus say to himself "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? JESUS." Before clicking the phone off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise you I know how this story's going to go from here. P r e p a r e


	12. DATE? ON?? THE HORIZON???

After looking happily at the phone for a moment, Mettaton handed it back to Alphys, who was staring at him, thrilled.

"Oh, get a grip, dear." He muttered without feeling.

"No, but, Mettaton, you look, like, super… in love???" Her eyes were shining, and a car aggressively beeped behind her when she hadn't kept tightly to the car in front and there was at least a millimetre of space. She inched forward and continued radiating happiness.

"Ahaha, yes, absolutely. And his family are really thrilled about that." He looked away. He hated that they hated him, and he particularly hated how much he hated it. He was supposed to be coming to terms with other people and their opinions, but it still- it made him angry.

"Don't worry! You'll win them over! I know you will!"

Mettaton flicked the hair out of his eye, only for it to land exactly where it had been. "You think so?"

"Yeah!" She nodded at him, and moved about an inch further down the road.

Silence fell and Mettaton went to check his phone, before remembering. He half smiled, and set an internal reminder to talk about that episode with his therapist. It had only been a few days. But also felt like weeks.

"Darling, you wouldn't fix my memory when we get back to mine, would you?"

She smiled at him, and brandished her phone. "Actually… if you hand me your charger…"

"You made an app for this?" He was delighted! Finally, people could meddle with his conscious on the move. He felt less delighted.

"Heh, yeah! It's so cool, isn't it!" She took the charger out of Mettaton's hand, and plugged it into her phone. He kept his end of the charger between his thumb and forefinger.

"Alphys, how, ah, _tested_ is this, exactly?'

He hated the way her face crumpled. It wasn't a trust thing, except it totally was. You only saw monsters melt exactly once before you second guess every invention.

"Um, I- I tested it for compatibility with- with the robot you s-saw for my uni, so I know it's s-safe… at least electronically, like, this won't trip any fuses or… anything…"

He looked at it sceptically. He wasn't exactly hearing what he wanted to hear.

"Will I black out? Is the app an interface?" _Is this going to mess up my mind?_

"I-I don't really know. It's not like I can test it on anything other than you…"

He smiled, bitterly. Alphys caught it, and grimaced. It reminded him of hundreds of arguments he'd had with her before. About how she didn't own him, and he wasn't her lab-rat, and he wasn't going to do anything he didn't want. And how he was selfish, and it was he should just co-operate for once in his life, and how it wasn't all about him all the time.

It was water under the bridge, yes. But there was an endless supply of water.

The argument was so old that they both knew their script. There was no point in saying all over again.

Traffic passed slowly, and Mettaton could feel Alphys going through the stages of disappointment. First, she was shocked that her invention had not been received as expected. Then she seemed irritated, and confused. Finally, she seemed to go into herself. It knocked her confidence.

And Mettaton hated that he _did_ that. He'd done it over, and over again. But every time he felt bad, the true laboratory seemed to rush through his mind, and nothing on earth could convince him to let Alphys just try and learn a little more about the world.

He tried to order his memories in his head, while Alphys focused on the silent road. He got a head ache.

He stared at the traffic for another forty minutes, when suddenly he was released from Alphys' car from hell, and finally home. He barely mumbled a goodbye to her.

He ordered a new phone online, and smiled. Even though he'd completely shut down his acting and singing careers, he was glad he'd kept the businesses. He was still a millionaire.

And then he stopped smiling because he actually felt completely hollow. He was living off his achievements, and he'd stopped achieving anything at all. It was disgraceful, really.

He went to his notepads, both for feelings and dreams. He felt like he had a whole lot to write. 

Mettaton remembered to check his video, and found it ready for editing. He fiddled around with that until he was happy, and make occasional notes while his computer buffered. He was being productive, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being too still. Too stagnant. 

He forced it down and made a note of the feeling. He was desperate to find the feeling interesting and to let it move on. But it wasn't happening, and he'd forgotten how frustrating production could be. He missed being famous. Being famous was terrible for him. He made a note.

He messaged Papyrus.

"Hey, this is pretty random, but if you fancy it, want to come out to Westerlyn tonight?" 

Mettaton made a note of that too, and the fact that he wasn't sure where the impulse came from, or his motivation. Further probing made him realise that he was lonely and felt terrible about his argument with Alphys and he just wanted someone he could have fun with. 

After a few minutes, it became obvious that Mettaton should stop holding out for a response and get on with his editing. It felt impossible that such a short video would need so much tweaking and changing, but he was sat at his chair for hours.

Watching his face move, hearing his voice say the same words over and over, it made him stop making sense, like the repetition of a word until it loses its sound and meaning. He watched himself become shapes and his words turn into a language he didn't understand.

Then Papyrus texted back.

"WHEN, WHERE, AND I'D LOVE TO! :D" 

Mettaton felt a little hopeful smile crawl on his face.

"Tonight, whatever time you end up getting there, wherever you want to go, and I can't wait!"

Mettaton saved the changes to his video, and drifted over to the closet, already excited to get dressed up. 

"HEY, DIDN'T YOU SAY YOU'D SHOW ME AROUND! WHEN WE MET THAT TIME BY COMPLETE COINCIDENCE! YOU'LL HAVE TO RECCOMEND ME A PLACE! AND IT'LL PROBABLY TAKE ME FOREVER TO GET THERE… IS NINE TOO LATE?"

"Darling, you're the same man who took me to the roof at 3:00 am and I didn't protest. I think 9:00 pm sounds doable!"

"NYEH HEH HEH, SORRY ABOUT THAT!"

"No don't be!" Mettaton texted, quickly. "It was great!" At least, he thought so. The vast majority of his memories about Papyrus were uncomfortably vague and fuzzy.

"And how about Muffet's Parlour? We both know how to get there! Unless you fancy something a bit more lively?"

"MUFFET'S SOUNDS GOOD! EXCEPT THAT SHE HATES ME, I THINK. BUT WE CAN ALWAYS GO SOMEWHERE ELSE AFTER WE MEET UP?"

"She absolutely doesn't hate you! Who could? But I know some pretty interesting nightclubs, or we can always come back to mine if we get too tired!"

Mettaton threw that in before he realised what he was insinuating. Yet, he left it unchanged just to see how it'd go.

"OH WOWIE I DON'T THINK I HAVE THE ENERGY FOR A CLUB TONIGHT! YOURS SOUNDS A LITTLE LESS… HIGH-KEY?"

"Very true! Sounds like quite the little date! Oh, and make sure you get the train, it's much easier than dealing with traffic!"

Papyrus' typing icon flashed a while, but no message came through. Mettaton waited patiently, but with mounting tension.

"DON'T REALLY KNOW HOW TO SAY THIS BUT A RETURN TICKET TO WESTERLYN IS A LITTLE OUTSIDE MY PRICE RANGE TO BE HONEST, SORRY"

"Give me your PayPal, and I'll pay for it, darling."

Once again, Mettaton was staring at the typing icon. At least he wasn't being left on read. 

"I REALLY CAN'T ASK YOU TO DO THAT! IT'S TAKING ADVANTAGE OF YOU!"

Mettaton stared at the words, and tried to decipher whether or not he was being politely turned down. He knew that not accepting rejection was one of his uglier traits, as well as unfounded lavish gifts. He was well aware that giving people gifts too large to be reasonable was a way of manipulating a situation by intimidating a person with his wealth, or by making them feel as though they owed him their time or even their admiration. But he really didn't see that he was doing that here.

Mettaton was reduced to googling whether buying train-tickets was an acceptable present for a relative stranger.

As usual, the Internet was useless on matters of the heart, and he'd just argued with the only person who actually knew anything about him. Except that was hours ago, and really, he should go apologise to her, but he hadn't done anything wrong (as far as his off-kilter perspective allowed him.)

"Not even if you pay me back some time? Or we go halves? Not that you have to, darling! We can do this some other time if you like!"

It was important to offer people a route. Mettaton was not a trap, no matter how many times he heard the word in a hundred horrible contexts.

"HALVES! HALVES SOUNDS ACCEPTABLE!! YOU'RE VERY GENEROUS AND I REALLY DON'T WANT YOU TO SPEND ALL YOUR MONEY ON ME!

Mettaton could have laughed. It was probably impossible to spend _all_ his money on Papyrus.

"Don't you stress about that! It'll be nice to get out of this flat!"

"BUT YOU ONLY JUST GOT BACK INTO IT? SORT OF?"

"I GUESS THAT WAS WHOLE HOURS AGO!"

"HANG ON, I HAVE TO CATCH MY BUS BACK TO MY PLACE AND GET READY! I'LL LET YOU KNOW WHEN I'M READY TO GET ON THE TRAIN! THANK YOU, BY THE WAY!"

Mettaton smiled and messaged him goodbye, before they exchanged emails and Mettaton transferred the money over. Then he dived back over to the wardrobe. He picked out the perfect outfit. Something cool and classy, but effortlessly understated. 

Mettaton owned exactly nothing understated. 

He realised the closest thing he had to the vibe he was going for was the outfit he wore last time he went to Muffet's- the cute ripped lilac jumper with the grey jeans.

He ran his hand through his fringe, where it landed exactly where it had been. It didn't bother him, his lack of shiny or sequinned outfits did. And he wasn't going to delude himself and pretend that Papyrus wouldn't notice, he knew he would. That wasn't vain, just realistic. 

It was too late to just order new clothes, that'd be crazy.

He thought about it for a second more.

"No darling, that's literally crazy." He mumbled to himself.

_Ooh, talking to ourself, now we're pushing the crazy boat out!_

He rolled his eyes at himself, and continued searching through his closet, throwing out short dresses and ball gowns and glittery tuxedos as he did. 

And then he happened upon it: his burgundy high-waisted skirt that he liked to wear with the oversized grey t-shirt with some runes and moons and cool stuff like that embroidered on it. He'd got a very healthy number of likes and reblogs when he wore that outfit, and he put it on easily. He breathed a sigh of relief; he looked sexy, but not like he'd tried or anything.

Yeah, he'd just slung on the first thing he found.

Yeah, right.

Still, no one but him ever needed to know about the terrible mess in his room. In a flash of inspiration, he put on the huge round glasses that he'd bought from back underground. They were vintage, and when he put them on, he felt like he had +3 cute. But classy.

He loved fashion.

He looked at his face though, and wished he could just put on makeup that matched his outfits as easily as humans could. Maybe when Alphys was feeling up to it, he'd ask her to update his paint-job to a more neutral palette.

For now though, he was happy to put on a velvet choker with a silver crescent moon, add a crystal pendant on a long chain. And swap out his neon pink heels for the black velvet pair.

And he had some messages from Papyrus, saying that he was on the train now, and that the ticket guy said he'd be there in half an hour. Mettaton smiled and promised that he was on his way. He shut down his laptop, put on an overly long black cardigan, stuffed his charger in the pocket, and locked up his flat.


	13. Tentative Hope.

Mettaton walked through the streets quickly, enjoying the buzz of the crowd. It wasn't his crowd, and it felt strange to just be another face in a flood of people, but that felt good. Like he was anonymous. Or even part of something, something huge.

Nothing could beat the city, the lights, the sound- the thrumming vibrancy of 100,000 people ran through him, and just by being there, he was adding to that energy.

Nature-loving freaks could take the trees any day, he knew where he belonged.

It was unforgivably cold outside, but that wasn't a problem for Mettaton. While humans held onto their coats and hunched over on themselves, Mettaton's posture remained open and relaxed, as he strolled though the Westerlyn cities. He looked into the sky and saw his favourite thing- colossal skyscrapers, piercing the void with mortal strength.

 _'Fuck mountains'_ , Mettaton thought to himself.

Muffet's Parlour wasn't far from Mettaton's apartment, really. But nowhere was too far for Mettaton in Westerlyn. He'd happily walk for miles around the place. But soon enough, he found himself at her purple doors.

He took a deep breath before he went in, in case Papyrus was ready and waiting for the date. It wasn't that he was nervous, of course- he was suddenly just fascinated by the brickwork above the parlour, and wondering if this part of Westerlyn was older than some other streets, and if that made this area more or less expensive…

He pulled his metal ass together and walked in as if he'd never felt anything but gentle confidence. Nothing as repellent as superiority, but certainly not shame. Mettaton, at this moment, simply exuded quiet self-esteem. Healthy.

Naturally, Papyrus wasn't there. But the soft, dim lighting and the chattering atmosphere was simply intoxicating, so Mettaton found a nice booth next to a window, and made himself comfortable. He shut his eyes for a moment to just absorb the different voices he was hearing, and revelled in the plethora of accents and languages. It was as if the drear mono-culture of the underground was impossible in the face of all this… diversity!

With his eyes shut, his mind began to wonder freely, and rove over different things ticking over in his head. He thought about YouTube, and whether it really would be something that would work out for him. Then he thought about his own shows, and wondered if a human audience would be interested, or if he'd make new ones. He wondered if he even had the mental energy to do something like that anymore. He questioned whether or not it'd even be healthy for him.

Then Mettaton thought about Papyrus. Everyone had told the man that Mettaton was bad news. And yet, he was still on his way to a date. Mettaton couldn't help but feel flattered, and repulsed by his own feelings. It was that desire for attention, warped into a demand for adoration from all he met, that had made a mess of him. He contemplated (sweet, helpful, _open_ _)_ Papyrus, and for a moment Mettaton was terrified. He was known for taking people for all they had with no thought to what he could offer at all. He'd been told it enough, directly by Flowey.

He was merciless, apparently.

Full of need and completely careless. That was what he needed to be to be a star. There wasn't any room for love, just LOVE.

Apparently.

And true to his insatiable form, Mettaton still wanted more. He wanted someone to love him even more than an idol, he wanted someone to love him more than a star. He wanted someone to love _him_.

And someone like that might be on their way, and Mettaton nearly broke out into a cold sweat. 

He opened his eyes, and checked the time. Only a minute had gone by since he walked in, but he felt completely different. He wanted to maybe run home quickly, before Papyrus got here and ruined the great life he had. Mettaton should probably text him, tell him to go have a nice night and never do anything as dumb as this again. Ignore all subsequent texts Mettaton may send in moments of weakness.

But the door chimed like a bell tolls, and Papyrus walked in. They made eye contact, and Papyrus smiled cheerily. Mettaton smiled back, but couldn't lie to him by imitating the million watt smile Papyrus gave. He was never lying again.

And Papyrus' smile became the concerned glance that he'd got so damn bored of. But it killed him every time he saw it, nonetheless. He looked away, as Papyrus walked over to him.

"METTATON…" He sounded so unsure.

Mettaton could have slapped himself for already hurting Papyrus without saying a word.

"I'm okay, sorry darling… just a bit…"

"OVERWHELMED BY MEETING SOMEONE AS ABSOLUTELY CASUAL AND COOL AS MYSELF?" He said, brightly. But Mettaton looked at him sharply, for a moment. He caught a bitterness, perhaps in the way that Papyrus wasn't meeting his eye, or perhaps in the cheery tone that covered the words like a shroud.

"Not by you, sweetheart! You are absolutely not-"

"WAS IT THE PHONE CALLS? OH GOD, IS THAT WHY YOU ASKED ME HERE?"

Mettaton could see something frightened in the other man's eyes, and he felt something within split perfectly into hating himself for scaring Papyrus like this, and a darker part of his mind was thrilled that someone could be so scared to lose him. A third, confusing part of him, hated himself for loving the attention, and suddenly it was so crowded in his mind that he hadn't realised that he hadn't said a word to Papyrus.

"I- I KNOW THEY'RE OVERBEARING, AND ANNOYING, AND PROBABLY REALLY SCARY. ESPECIALLY UNDYNE. IN FACT, I DON'T EXPECT THAT YOU THINK MUCH OF THEM RIGHT NOW. I… DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS."

Mettaton shook himself.

"No! No, I didn't drag you all the way out here over your friends and family wanting to… um… know a little more about me. I just wanted to see you!"

Mettaton felt like he'd done something right when he saw Papyrus brighten up. "OH! I AM SO SORRY I ASSUMED THAT MY FAMILY WOULD MAKE YOU WANT TO NEVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN! EASY MISTAKE TO MAKE, RIGHT!"

Mettaton knew that what Papyrus said was indicative of distinctly negative feelings, and on a purely mechanical level, he knew he ought to surround himself with positive and healthy people. But instead he laughed with Papyrus and order them both a hot chocolate.

"I THOUGHT THIS WAS A COFFEE SHOP? I KNOW WE BROKE THE RULES LAST TIME, BUT SURELY A SECOND OFFENCE WILL TAKE US TO COFFEE JAIL!"

Mettaton laughed, genuinely. It was the right call to meet Papyrus, he was feeling better already!

"Oh darling, I make it my business to never order coffee at a coffee shop. Next time we should have tea!"

"N-NEXT TIME?"

Mettaton quickly scanned his face for some sign that maybe he'd been presumptuous, or made Papyrus uncomfortable. Instead, he found signs of tentative hope and shy excitement. Mettaton smiled, feeling those same emotions start to blossom in his chest.

"Unless, of course, you want to go to a bar next time? But then I'll make it my business to have a coffee."

He laughed airily, and Papyrus giggled loudly. Mettaton smiled at him, feeling a huge surge of affection for the man sitting opposite him.

"My goodness, I forgot to tell you! Your outfit is just stunning!"

Mettaton meant it- Papyrus looked dashing in his heavy metal t-shirt with the same scarf as he'd seen him wear when they'd first met, and earlier the same day. Those two events were strangely occupying the same kind of time-frame in his head. He needed Alphys to sort that out for him fast. He hoped these new memories of Papyrus wouldn't become so distorted. He wanted to remember the blush that was quickly spreading across his face, because it was adorable.

Papyrus laughed, somewhat coquettishly, and repaid the compliment.

"Oh this? I just put on whatever, it's nothing, darling!"

They smiled happily at each other, but then realised they were silent. They looked at each other, desperate to start a conversation.

"So you like heavy metal, do you?" Mettaton asked, experimentally.

"UM, YES! BUT WHAT DO YOU THINK OF IT?" He looked at him, cautiously, and suddenly that feeling Mettaton'd had for days walked right into his head and announced itself at last.

Papyrus looked for approval. Wanted it from _him_.

Mettaton felt the consequences run through him fast, imagined breaking his heart, getting it wrong, letting his own disorder feed off Papyrus' personality.

Take advantage.

But he didn't let it show on his face, that'd be rude and cruel. All he could do was be honest and not manipulate the situation, even though now he knew exactly how, and it was right there. He breathed slowly, and tried to act like a normal person. It was easy enough, out loud. Just harder to get his thoughts on board.

"It's not exactly what I listen to, but the aesthetic is so interesting! Especially that t-shirt you have!"

Papyrus looked back at his t-shirt with new appreciation. "WOWIE! I JUST PUT ON THE FIRST THING I FOUND? AND YOU LIKE IT? I JUST REALLY LIKE METAL BECAUSE THERE'S SO MUCH PASSION!! RAW ENERGY! I'D LOVE TO SEE A LIVE CONCERT SOMEDAY!"

Mettaton giggled. Somehow, the image of the sweet, well dressed skeleton in front of him going to a moshpit was funny.

"Maybe I'd go with you…" Mettaton mused.

"WELL! YOU'LL HAVE TO BE VERY BRAVE, BECAUSE PEOPLE CAN GET VERY- UM- INTENSE. AT THESE THINGS. LIKE, HUMANS ENJOY SERIOUSLY HURTING THEMSELVES! AND EACHOTHER! IT CAN GET, VERY, UM, BRUTAL." He looked contemplative, then smiled again.

"Well well, I didn't think you'd be the kind to _enjoy_ brutality! Shame on you!" He put on a heavy layer of mock shock, and Papyrus laughed with him. Maybe he wasn't as fragile as Mettaton had believed.

"I _DID_ KINDA GROW UP ON HORROR FILMS AND YOUR TV SHOWS. YOUR 'KILLER ROBOT' SERIES, WHILE NOT EXACTLY SCARY TO AN ADULT CONISURE OF THE HORROR GENRE- SUCH AS MYSELF, WAS NOT EXACTLY WITHOUT ITS FAIR SHARE OF GORE!"

Mettaton laughed again. "I'll have you know I received a good few angry letters and a concerned phone call from Asgore himself about that series. It was very scary." He pretended to huff.

Mettaton laughed again. A server, a human, cut into their conversation with their hot chocolates, and Mettaton saw Papyrus' eyes light up. Something within him filled with warmth and he couldn't help but smile.

"HOLY SHIT, I DIDN'T KNOW THAT THIS MUCH WHIPPED CREAM WAS LEGAL!"

Mettaton, who cupped his drink for warmth, snickered into the cup. Watching Papyrus daintily eat the toppings with a spoon before attempting his drink was sweet. And also a little bit funny.

"You're so cute, oh my god," he breathed. Papyrus looked up at him, blushing. Mettaton hadn't realised he'd spoken aloud, but found it didn't really matter, either.

"WELL!! THANK YOU! I _TOTALLY_ ALREADY KNEW THAT!" His gaze shifted and his fingers knitted tightly around the glass. Mettaton smiled at him.

"Good! You ought to know! You're adorable, darling." And Papyrus giggled a little apprehensively into his glass, and Mettaton leant back in his chair after realising he'd leaned nearly all the way in. Papyrus seemed glad of the additional space, which Mettaton did his best not to take personally.

He understood, with his mind. He just needed to get his stupid feelings on his side!

"YOU'RE GORGEOUS. OBVIOUSLY. EVERYONE'S ALREADY SAID THAT, THOUGH. WHAT AM I SAYING?" Papyrus smiled at him with a lost expression on his face. But Mettaton felt good, felt something reach out for the attention and the affection. It was just that he was trying very hard to murder that part of himself. Of course, like all the other murders, this was in complete secrecy. So instead of showing any kind of discomfort, Mettaton instead smiled graciously, and took a sip of his hot chocolate, toppings and all.

"You know, it  _is_  actually quite different to hear that from someone I'm on a date with than a fan…"

"YES! BECAUSE FANS ARE BAD? GOOD THING I'M NOT AN ACTIVE FAN! I JUST CAUSUALLY ENJOY AND LOVE ALL YOUR SHOWS, SONGS, INTERVIEWS, WEIRD SHITPOSTS AND THE THINGS YOU LIKE ON UNDERNET. REALLY CASUAL, LIKE."

Papyrus' brow knitted and his eyes darted away.

Mettaton had never laughed so much on a date before. Never been quite so relaxed, never smiled quite so genuinely.

It was this moment Mettaton decided he wanted to keep this boy right up until Papyrus himself realised what a mistake it was. Mettaton was just too selfish to do the kind thing for anyone, and was going to cling to every moment that Papyrus was willing to give him.

"Well, I knew you were a fan, but we're more than that now, of course." Papyrus' eyes snapped right back up to Mettaton's, as if he were frantically looking for the truth. His face broke out into yet another gentle smile.

"YES… YES I SUPPOSE WE ARE!"

If Mettaton were to put a name on the emotion he was hearing in Papyrus' voice, it would be 'cautious optimism.' And in equal parts Mettaton wanted to shake Papyrus out of his stupor and let him see the person he really was, and then also to keep him in that wonderful state of ignorance before he would eventually see it all for himself.

The atmosphere suddenly felt heavy, and Mettaton wasn't sure how to carry thus gracefully or to steer the conversation elegantly to shallower waters…

"WHAT'S THE BEST THING THAT'S EVER HAPPENED TO YOU?" Papyrus asked, breaking the silence between them.

Mettaton stopped.

"That's really… god, I don't know, darling. When an interviewer asks that, I always skip it!" He laughed a little, maybe a little too enthusiastically. His on-screen laugh.

"REALLY? I'VE NEVER SEEN THAT!"

"Well of course, they edit it out, so it looks like they've never asked." Mettaton told him, seriously, while Papyrus seemed enraptured. Some sick part of Mettaton had desperately missed seeing people hang off his every word.

Papyrus was silent for a moment, and looked thoughtful. Mettaton could almost imagine him making an exaggerated "hm" noise, before he spoke again.

"WHAT ABOUT LIVE INTERVIEWS?"

"Oh darling, I haven't done one of those in so long!"

"BUT- THERE WAS ONE JUST BEFORE THE HUMAN CAME!"

Mettaton pursed his lips and shook his head.

"It wasn't really live, I just started saying they were to make them more interesting. God, the last piece of live footage I ever shot was… was Frisk…"

He drank deeply from his hot chocolate. It wasn't as dramatic as a coffee.

"YOU SURE DID YOUR BEST TO MURDER THEM, HUH! OH, DON'T LOOK SO DISSAPOINTED, YOU DID REALLY WELL!! BUT EVEN UNDYNE COULDN'T KILL THEM IN THE END, AND THAT GOES AGAINST THE LAWS OF SCIENCE! I'M BEGINING TO THINK THAT PHYSICS AS WE KNOW IT MAY NOT APPLY TO THEM!"

Mettaton smiled despite himself, but had to explain.

"That's… not quite why I'm upset. I shouldn't have tried, ever-"

To Mettaton's surprise, Papyrus shushed him. Reached over the table and put a long phalange to Mettaton's lips.

"EVERYONE TRIED TO KILL FRISK. WE… WE WERE STUCK DOWN THERE FOR A THOUSAND YEARS, AND WE DIDN'T KNOW THAT THEY WERE GOING TO FREE US ANYWAY."

He looked Mettaton in the eyes until he felt confident that his message had been taken in and accepted.

It hadn't been, yet.

"But I just wanted to free myself. I was so selfish."

He'd talked about this with his therapist. But never with a friend, with a monster. How could he? How could they possibly understand wanting to leave their own kind to live among humans?

"WASN'T IT ALL SELFISH THOUGH, IN THE END? TO... DO IT FOR ONE OF US, TO DO IT FOR ALL OF US… IT'S STILL MURDER. NONE OF IT'S EXACTLY RIGHT, SO… SO I GUESS WHO REALLY CARES WHY? I DON'T KNOW, THAT'S A MESSED UP THING TO THINK. UM."

Again, he looked uncomfortable. Strange views, put out too fast. Mettaton couldn't be more thrilled; Papyrus was damn smart, under the comfortable blanket of 'idiot'. 

"No, I- I think I know where you're coming from. Like, you're saying it's wrong to kill a child to leave the underground either way, so it doesn't really matter if I was going to cross the barrier myself or if I was going to take everyone with me."

"BASICALLY. YOU MAKE IT SOUND BETTER!"

Mettaton shook his head.

"You say it how it is. I… Papyrus, that's really rare!"

And the man in front of him laughed.

"METTATON… ON THE FIRST DATE WE'VE TALKED ABOUT HEAVY METAL AND THE MORALITY OF CHILD MURDER. I THINK YOU'RE PRETTY UNIQUE YOURSELF!"

And for once, Mettaton laughed and agreed. He didn't care that he was getting weird looks from the server who was desperately trying to hear the other half of Papyrus' increasingly disturbing date.

"Sweetheart, the customers are disturbing me. Wanna get out of here?" 

Papyrus nodded, and knocked back the last of his hot chocolate.

"BACK TO YOUR PLACE, RIGHT?"

Mettaton caught the server's raised eyebrows, and immediately clocked that Papyrus was trying to shock him. Mettaton smiled devilishly.

"I have this really great collection of posters that I really want to show you! Darling, I think you'll be all over them! And maybe you can shoot a video with me, if you like?"

He hoped Papyrus would say something regarding 'tapes' or something, but instead he nodded, and stood up. No major loss, the server still looked blown away as Mettaton followed Papyrus out the door, slid a fifty on the table, and linked his arm around Papyrus.

Once they were out of the Parlour, the loose holding morphed into an affectionate, side-ways hug. Mettaton leaned into the contact, while Westerlyn folk pushed past them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god thank you for being patient with this fic, I know I'm taking my time with the story, the romance, even the trauma, and every other fic writer EVER has said this- school sucks and it's hard to find time to maintain grades and write fic. But!! Writing this fic has really given me confidence and given me experience I never thought possible!! so thank you so much for the wonderful response, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!!


	14. The Datening- Dating CONTINUES!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II of the date, and things seem to be going well! :)

"SO, WHAT WE GOING TO DO AT YOUR HOUSE?"

"Oh, no, darling it's just a flat! Well, an apartment. It's home though," Mettaton breathed, humbly.

Papyrus nodded beside him.

"BUT WHAT WRE WE GOING TO DO THERE?" He asked, curiously.

"Well, I was thinking I could order a take away, maybe we could play a board game or watch a film, and we could get to know each other a bit better? Tell each other about our sad childhoods, or something." Mettaton laughed airily, but Papyrus stiffened in his arms. They were still striding quickly though the freezing night, and Mettaton noted that skeletons must feel the cold more than his metal body cared to; he was close enough to feel Papyrus' tremors against his arms.

"MY SAD CHILDHOOD? BUT I HAD A WONDERFUL CHILDHOOD! MY WHOLE LIFE IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! APPART FROM NEVER MAKING THE ROYAL GUARD, WHICH IS AN UNHOLY INJUSTICE THAT CONSUMES ME MOST OF THE TIME, BUT REALLY, SUBWAY SUPASSES WHATEVER THE SHITTY GUARD COULD EVER HAVE OFFERED ME."

"Well," Mettaton pulled him a little closer. "The only tragedy is that they never got to have you!"

"YOU REALLY THINK SO? I ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT MY SHEER CHARISMA SHOULD HAVE CARRIED ME QUICKLY THROUGH THE RANKS OF UNOFFICIAL ROYAL GUARDSMAN TO OFFICIAL ROYAL GUARDSMAN, TO FAMOUS ROYAL GUARDSMAN! EVEN THOUGH ABSOLUTELY NO ONE SAW ME FIGHT UNTIL I HAD TO CAPTURE FRISK, AND THEN WE JUST BECAME FRIENDS AND I LET THEM GO…"

"Why _did_ you let them go, darling?" Mettaton asked, curiously.

Papyrus wasn't looking at him. Instead, he stared ahead into the crowds and lights.

"WELL. I DIDN'T WANT TO KILL THEM. BECAUSE KILLING IS WRONG NO MATTER WHAT. BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO DIE. SO, UNLESS YOU WANT TO KILL OR BE KILLED, YOU HAVE TO MAKE FRIENDS, RIGHT? MAKE IT DIFFICULT FOR PEOPLE TO WANT TO HURT YOU…"

Mettaton clutched Papyrus hard, aware that he'd started to look at him with sad, wide eyes.

"Kill or be killed, huh. Real interesting turn of phrase, that."

Papyrus shook him gently, so that Mettaton looked at him. He appeared to be shocked, his eyes wide and his jaw slightly parted. Droves of people were pushing past them, and Mettaton knew how to push back against them, just as hard. He was clinging to Papyrus, who would have been left behind without him, pushed all the way back to Southet.

"DOES IT… REMIND YOU OF SOMETHING? BECAUSE WHEN I HEAR THAT, IT FEELS LIKE I'M FORGETTING SOMETHING. SOMETHING REALLY… REALLY UNFORGETTABLE. BUT LIKE IT'S JUST GONE? I DON'T KNOW, AM I MAKING SENSE?"

And Mettaton furrowed his brow.

"Nothing that I know anything about. But that sounds really weird, but unfortunately, the exact opposite is true for me."

Papyrus looked eager to hear more, but Mettaton would need to collect himself, gather his thoughts, figure out what he was going to say. He told Papyrus he'd tell him more back at the apartment. He nodded, obligingly (thankfully), but there was a silence in the air filled with infinite noise.

"I REALLY DID HAVE A SAD CHILDHOOD. HOW DID YOU KNOW? IS IT REALLY JUST WRITTEN ON MY FACE LIKE THAT?" He asked, quietly. Nearly lost in the carnival of noise, the hundreds of languages and billions of conversations.

Mettaton shook his head profusely, and leant his head on Papyrus' shoulder. Even though he was quite a lot taller than him.

"No! Darling. It's just that we grew up in a hole. None of us had a happy childhood, exactly." Mettaton mused, a little wistfully. Everyone's childhood was godawful.

"NYEH HEH, I THOUGHT IT'D TURN OUT YOU HAD SOME WEIRD MIND READING POWERS, OR SOMETHING!" He laughed a little.

"Oh. Yes, like your brother." Mettaton couldn't help but curl his lip. Everything about the thought of Sans was damn right insulting and wrong.

Papyrus shook his head despairingly, too, and Mettaton was darkly thrilled that Papyrus wasn't the defensive type about his sibling. He wouldn't know how to work with that when the sibling in question was Sans.

"SO, WHAT ABOUT YOU?" He asked as they turned a corner. If Mettaton craned his head all the way back, he could see his apartment block. It was right in front of him.

"Oh, what about me, sweetheart?" He still wanted to avoid talking about his past, if he could. But he knew that Papyrus wouldn't logically by deterred now.

"ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD! I'M GUESSING IT WAS TERRIBLE TOO, RIGHT?"

"Damn right it was. Orphanage?" He asked, stopping suddenly at a pedestrian crossing. Papyrus bumped into him, Mettaton instinctively went to balance him, and suddenly, they were suddenly nose to nose, Papyrus gripping Mettaton's shoulders, Mettaton holding Papyrus' waist. They stared for a moment, reeling with the closeness.

And then the cars stopped for the crowd, who surged forward to get to the other side, dragging Mettaton and Papyrus too.

"YOU TOO?" Mettaton nodded, quickly. "YEAH, I WAS IN AN ORPHANAGE. I THINK THAT'S WHEN I WAS TEN? THERE WAS SOMETHING ELSE BEFORE THAT, BUT I CAN'T REMEMBER… IT'S WEIRD."

Mettaton nodded, and took Papyrus over the threshold of his apartments, and into the public lounge.

"THIS IS REALLY NICE. WHERE ARE WE?" He was glancing at the white sofas as if they would explode with contact. His beat-up trainers squeaked uncomfortably in the empty lounge. There was a chatter emanating from the bar area, but Mettaton wasn't thinking about alcohol tonight.

"I live here, dearest," he told him, and lead Papyrus to the lift. It was only as he thought back to Papyrus' block of apartments that he realized their situations couldn't be more different.

Somehow, he'd sought out someone who he had a distinct financial advantage over, and that particular someone had a deep craving for attention and praise. He already had so much over Papyrus, the scales were so unequal, that Mettaton struggled to even imagine a more easily exploited person.

He was already booking the therapy session.

And in the lift, he couldn't bring himself not to feel as excited as he did.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS WHERE YOU LIVE? HOW DO YOU- I WOULD BE SO SCARED HERE!"

Mettaton was thrown.

"Oh no! Are you scared now? We can go somewhere else, if you like?"

Papyrus smiled broadly, and shook his head.

"IT'S JUST- EVERYTHING LOOKS SO DELICATE AND- AND PRETTY." He stumbled, making eye contact with Mettaton. He smiled and ran his hand through his hair, flustered at the compliment that wasn't really about him, but was really.

"It's nice here," Mettaton mused. "It's a bit lonely though."

"REALLY? BUT THERE'S A BAR ATTATCHED! I'M SURE YOU'D MAKE SO MANY FRIENDS!"

Mettaton laughed a little, hollow.

"Well, not exactly friends. I certainly got acquainted though…"

Papyrus seemed somehow to turn paler, and detached himself. Mettaton was confused, but Papyrus looked like he was trying to articulate something. He fiddled with the hem of his worn T shirt. He truly looked out of place in the mirrored elevator with the gilt buttons.

Mettaton stared at the climbing floor number. He felt like he was blasting off into space, and the rocket was about to blow up.

"I DON'T HAVE SEX." He declared. His body looked tense while his eyes searched him deeply for some kind of response or reaction, some hint of an opinion. But Mettaton was just confused.

"That's fine? I don't either!" He said, happily.

Papyrus gaped at him.

"THEN WHAT DID THAT-"

"Oh! Oh! I meant I got kicked out for dancing on the bar, singing loudly and, well, starting fights. It's quite embarrassing, really, so I'm very glad they didn't ask me to leave the whole block! Oh- God, I get it now! No, darling, I'm ace!"

Papyrus nodded, agreeably. "YEAH, YOU'RE THE GREATEST GUY THAT EVER LIVED!"

"No, I'm not- and, do you know what ace means? As in, asexual?"

Papyrus' eyes widened.

"WHAT DOES… WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?"

"It's interesting! So, it can mean different things to different monsters. And people too, I guess. Like, for me, it just means I'm not interested in sex. Like, it just doesn't seem interesting? I don't know. It's nothing to be ashamed of! And then for others, it's like they would have sex if their partner wanted to, but it's not high on the list of things they'd think of doing, and then some are just repulsed by the idea of it-"

"THAT'S ME." Papyrus cut in. "OH MY GOD! THAT'S ME!" He added, more excitedly.

Mettaton smiled, and a warm glow spread within him. He'd done that! 

He chastised himself quickly, he just helped. He didn't make anything happen, and he had nothing to take credit for.

He still felt nice though. It was a wonderful thing to help someone figure out who they were.

"There's some ace-positive blogs I follow on Tumblr, oh my goodness, Papyrus, I'll have to show you Tumblr, you'll just love it!" The elevator dinged, and glided open before Papyrus could think any more about Tumblr. Instead, he was enraptured by the fluffy white carpet in the hallway.

"OH MY GOD! SHOULD I TAKE MY SHOES OFF? I CAN'T RUIN THIS CARPET, I'M TAKING MY SHOES OFF!"

He kicked the shoes off quickly, and carried them.

"I'd join you, but my heels are literally my feet," Mettaton said in the off-hand way that made people laugh. Papyrus laughed, but it didn't feel predictable and bad. Mettaton just felt assured.

"HOW DO YOU BALANCE?" There was awe in his voice that Mettaton wanted to drink in and spit out simultaneously.

"It's easier to work these legs than that awful wheel I used to have!" Mettaton laughed easily, as he unlocked the door.

"WOW! YOUR RIGHT, YOU REALLY DO WORK THOSE LEGS!"

"And now I'll do the splits," Mettaton said, gracefully bringing his right leg right up to the top of the door in a ballerina-like pose. "You know, just for _kicks!_ " He laughed, deeply at his own joke, while Papyrus put on a great show of laughing and obviously loving Mettaton’s silly joke.

"NYEH HEH HEH, YOU'RE SO FUNNY. IT'S NOT LIKE I PREFER YOUR VISUAL HUMOUR AND MURDER JOKES OVER YOUR PUNS."

Then he seemed paranoid, and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes seemed to constantly be testing for an adverse reaction.

Mettaton was going to google everything about how to make a people-pleaser comfortable, but in the meantime, he had a little idea.

"Frankly darling, I love your honestly! I think it keeps things more exciting when you don't know what the other person's going to say!" He beamed at Papyrus, who smiled broadly back at him.

They went into Mettaton's apartment, and at first Papyrus seemed a little overwhelmed. He tightened the hold against his middle, and stayed on the very edge of Mettaton's living room. As if he were trying to take up as little space as possible.

Mettaton went to put on a little music, and flopped on his great, cream sofa. He'd left room for Papyrus, and gestured him to sit. He walked over and sat down. Rigidly. He was obviously trying his best to touch as little of the sofa as he could.

"So, darling, what do you want to do first? Have you eaten yet?"

"UM, DO YOU WANT TO GET FOOD?" Papyrus asked, amiably. Mettaton narrowed his eyes, hearing the question underneath. It sounded more like he was asking for permission.

"Yes, I wouldn't mind! Is there anything you particularly like?"

And thus began an awkward conversation, veiled by secret questions about food. Mettaton discovered that Papyrus was a master at appearing to talk about himself, while actually divulging no information. All the while, they were both twisting and turning on the sofa until Mettaton had rested his head on Papyrus' lap, and Papyrus' had planted his legs either side of Mettaton's body, his arms digging into the arm of the sofa.

Papyrus understood that he was destroying the structure of the seat, and should he continue to sit like that, he'd leave dents in the armrest. But he didn't want to disturb Mettaton, who didn't really seem to give a damn about the sofa anyway. Between finding a comfy spot on the sofa, and trying to decide on food while gently wheedling information about each other, they'd agreed on getting sushi to take out.

This was because another hard-won piece of information Mettaton had about Papyrus was that he despised greasy food. Once he confirmed that he shared the opinion, that grease was terrible for his operating system and that he wasn't going to resent missing out on a cheesy pizza, Papyrus finally let a lecture on the evils of bad food.

"IT GETS STUCK ON MY TEETH? I SWEAR I CAN TASTE IT ON THE INSIDE OF MY MOUTH FOR DAYS? WHO WANTS THAT? WHO WOULD WANT THAT? YOU KNOW ON THE SURFACE, THAT IDIOM, RIB-STICKING FOOD? I CAN CONFIRM THAT IS A THING, AND IT IS ALSO A VERY BAD THING, AND SHOULD NOT BE PUT ON ADVERTS UNLESS THEY'RE PUBLIC HEALTH WARNINGS!" 

Mettaton gazed up at him, watching Papyrus recline fully against the couch and gesture manically. He had this serious, cross expression that shouldn't have been as endearing as it was.

"WHAT?' He Papyrus asked when he finally noticed Mettaton's affectionate gaze. He sat up straight and subtly knitted his fingers together. "WAS I A BIT FULL ON?"

"No! Papyrus, your passion is magnetic!" Without entirely knowing what he was doing, he laced his hand around Papyrus', who squeaked.

"Don't ever change," he murmured. He wasn't sure whether or not Papyrus heard him, and he wasn't sure whether or not he minded.

Raptly, Mettaton traced Papyrus' hand, who idly stared up at the ceiling.

They were completely silent for a little while, and Mettaton could easily have fallen asleep to the sound of quiet breathing.

"YOUR APPARTMENT…" Papyrus started, quietly, while still looking around (and at anywhere but Mettaton).

"Yes darling, what do you think of it?" Mettaton asked, eager to hear any opinion Papyrus was volunteering.

"I HATE IT."

Mettaton was stunned. Then he resumed tracing spirals on Papyrus' ulna.

"Hm, and what's wrong with it?" He hoped he sounded gentle and curious, like a sweet deer. Instead of defensive and aggressive, like some hyena.

"IT'S… ALL WHITE? NO OFFENCE, BUT IT'S NOTHING LIKE YOU?"

"And what would you say would be more me?"

Papyrus appraised him with a quick, self-conscious look up and down his face, body and clothes. Mettaton's curiosity mounted. 

"I THINK YOU COULD DO WITH MORE BRIGHT COLOURS! IT'S REALLY OPPRESSIVE IN HERE! MAYBE A WHOLE GLITTER WALL, I THINK THAT'D REALLY CHEER THE PLACE UP A BIT!"

Mettaton giggled.

"You know, I haven't actually decorated since I moved in!"

But looking around at the room again, Mettaton realized he'd never been struck with how plain it was. He thought about his beautiful room in Waterfall, and it took him all his emotional control to not tear up.

"When they sold it to me, they told me they just redecorated, so I thought if this is how the humans like it, then… then I should keep it. Papyrus, you're right! I loathe this color scheme, and I never even noticed!!"

He pressed a quick kiss against the rough, mangled looking bone that made up the back of Papyrus' hand.

"Thank you! For opening my eyes a bit! You should come around to help me decorate some time, you can be my…" he thought hard for a moment. "My designer! My creative manager!"

Papyrus held on tightly to Mettaton's own, metallic hand, and blushed mightily.

"I WOULD LOVE TO! OH MY GOD!!"

And all at once, Mettaton was lost in a world of interior design. They planned to paint the empty canvas of a room in lovely, brighter colors. And Mettaton was swept away! They were pointing at walls and deciding that a beautiful shade of dark fuchsia, and that the ceiling should be pastel pink.

Mettaton showed Papyrus all his rooms, ran from living room to room in mad dashes filled with inspiration. Somehow, he and Papyrus had exactly no clashing views, but just seemed to think that every thought the other had was perfectly lovely. Papyrus was amazed by the fact that he technically had a bigger flat because he had two bedrooms. But he didn't have such large, spacious, beautiful and empty, painfully blank rooms.

The bedroom was to be a rosy pink shade, and the bathroom could stay as plain and opulent as it was.

Mettaton almost slammed the door on the delivery person for interrupting the most fun he'd ever had in his flat. But after they unpacked the cute packages on the dining room table, Papyrus ate with a fervor that Mettaton found himself reciprocating.

"Gorgeous, I'm letting you make all the food choices from now. You know what you're talking about!"

And Papyrus positively glowed under the affection.

"WELL!! I AM A CHEF!! SO, I SHOULD KNOW! WHAT FOOD IS WORTH EATING!! I'M HONESTLY THRILLED YOU JUST SHARE MY OBVIOUSLY CORRECT VALUES!"

And Mettaton laughed.

"YOU KNOW- ON MY FIRST FEW DAYS ON THE SUFACE, I'D JUST EAT A LOT OF HUMAN FOOD? IT DIDN'T EXACTLY WORK OUT, BUT I DID MY BEST WITH IT. BUT I DIDN'T KNOW THEY EAT MEAT HERE." He narrowed his eyes. "I DIDN'T ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT MEAT WAS."

"SO, I TOOK UNDYNE TO A SUSHI BAR, BECAUSE SHE'S ALWAYS WANTED TO TRY IT. BUT SHE KNEW WHAT FISH WAS, AND IT TURNS OUT SHE'S FINE BECAUSE FISH EAT FISH ALL THE TIME."

Mettaton quirked an eyebrow, and Papyrus swatted him gently. 

"NOT IN THE GAY WAY! I MEANT IN THE FOOD CHAIN WAY! BUT WHEN SHE TOLD ME WHAT SUSHI WAS, I SPAT EVERYTHING OUT AND HAD TO LEAVE IMMEDIATELY."

"WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY IS. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ORDERING VEGETARIAN! MEAT FREAKS ME OUT TOO MUCH!"

Mettaton burst out laughing, and Papyrus crossed his arms.

"IT WAS HUMILIATING, DON'T LAUGH AT ME!" 

Mettaton couldn't help laughing harder, but stopped when Papyrus started to look sad.

"Hey, I'm sorry, darling! You just have a comedic genius to your timing!"

Instantly, Papyrus brightened up at the praise.

"YOU REALLY THINK SO? EVEN THOUGH I REALLY DON'T THINK I'M THAT FUNNY! I'M MORE OF A ROMANTIC TRAGEDY, YOU KNOW?"

"Ooh, I do believe I was a pioneer in the rom-trag genre! They don't have any of its kind here, which is weird because a friend once told me that the only way to end a love story was by bloodbath."

They both laughed lightly before a cold wind blew through Mettaton, and shook him.

"I'm sorry, I forgot who told me that, but he's certainly not a friend."

And the atmosphere evaporated once more. Became heavy.

"I- I ALSO HAD A FRIEND WHO TAUGHT ME LOTS ABOUT THE HUMAN WORLD. AND NOT ALL OF IT MATCHES UP, EXACTLY. FL- FLOWERY, I THINK HIS NAME WAS?"

Mettaton swallowed. It was happening.

And somehow, sweet, precious Papyrus had tangled with that thing and survived.

"Flowey," Mettaton breathed. "It was called Flowey."

Papyrus put down his chopsticks and stared at Mettaton with a look of horror and fascination, and Mettaton, finally, started to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I can't finish the date yet!! It just seems to go on forever, and there's another part I really want to get on to, so I can end all the plot this fic has to offer!! Once the date is over, there's two more Moments(tm) and then you can expect the epilogue!! I have no idea how many chapter's that's going to take, so please bare with me! Also, do you like knowing what Mettaton's doing on his own, or would you prefer a bit of a time skip to Papyrus's and Mettaton's next interaction!! I'd like to know what you think, but I can't exactly promise anything!  
> (also I wrote most of these 10 pages literally today, omg I need a life)


	15. Tea and Trash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's tea, garbage and zen. What more could you want in a romantic date?

It was a cold day in Waterfall. Damp and cold. It was always the same in Waterfall, where the icy blasts from Snowdin could travel all the way up to Hapstablook's ranch. Naturally, he was no where near the place. He'd left it behind and was not planning on returning.

He was crying again. He left his robot form by his side, as easy as stepping out of a car would be to a human. Of course, he looked through those magazines full of all those beautiful glossy humans with an uncontainable longing.

He was lying on the floor, next to his metal crate, and allowing the complete and full misery to consume him entirely. It was the easiest thing in the world.

It's what ghosts do.

That was what the day he met Flowey looked like. Just like any other day in Happstablook's painfully tiny existence.

"Howdy- oh boy, you sure look sad there!"

Hapstablook trembled. He'd never seen a talking flower before. Of course, there was an awful lot he'd never seen, so it wasn't up to him to be judgmental.

"What's wrong with you?" The flower asked him.

"I'm a ghost. And I've found a body, but it- I can't become corporeal with it! What isn't wrong with me!?" Happstablook blurted out, too overcome with the injustice to be self conscious. He had no decorum. The tears poured down his face but Happstablook paid them no attention, so Flowey didn't either.

"No wonder you can't be corporeal! Not with that ugly thing!"

"Just who exactly are you?" Happstablook asked. Of course, he thought the robot body was as ugly as the flower did. But now that it was someone else attacking the robot body, he didn't want to hear it.

He curled into himself, rolled over on his side on the floor, and the flower materializes in front of his eyes.

"I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower!"

Happstablook had no idea that it had had, but his entire life had changed when he told Flowey all about his day. He'd told Flowey about how Alphys was meant to fix him up with the body of his dreams, but instead he'd ended up with...

"A calculator!" He sobbed, bitterly. "And- she says she can't make my real body until she has a- a- a 'research grant' from Asgore because my new body is going to cost money to make that she just doesn't have and oh! Oh it's useless!"

He let himself dissolve into the tears again, and Flowey tutted comfortingly.

"That's just so unfair!"

Happstablook nodded, forlornly, and let his tears soak into the silence. It was nice. It had been weeks since he'd left his ranch with Napstablook, and he missed having someone to cry with.

"Hey! I have an idea!" Flowey suggested brightly, apparently after he got bored with Happstablook's crying.

"Really? Because this seems impossible"

"No, don't think like that! I have a really good idea! I bet Asgore would give Alphys all the funding if she could give him what he really wants! A soul!!"

Happstablook was aghast. "She can't give up her SOUL for me to have a body! That's-"

"That's not what I meant, oh my god." Flowey looked annoyed, but Happstablook was used to that. Everyone looked mad at him all the time.

"I meant! What if you pretended that she created you! So then Asgore would think she was making more SOULS and really she's working on you!"

Happstablook was startled by the idea. He told Flowey that he didn't like lying.

"But don't you want to be an actor? Isn't that just lying?"

Happstablook still felt uneasy. Surely they were different, but Flowey shook his head, authoritatively. He knew about these things.

"If you don't know how to act, I can teach you! C'mon, let's make a start!"

Flowey acted out how he imagined the scene to go, and Happstablook acted it back. It was fun. It went on for days. He was disappointing and amateurish, and then he was adequate, and then he was really kind of okay. 

The thought of lying and acting turned over in Happstablook's mind. It turned over and over for days and days, until he finally suggested it to Alphys with the confidence of a man who was going to scam the King. And of course Flowey let him take credit for the idea!

In fact, Flowey said it'd be best not to mention him at all.

Happstablook understood, he knew how some people just wished they didn't exist altogether.

 

Mettaton hated talking about that day.

"It was so horrible when I realized that he wasn't there to help me. I- I really thought he was."

Papyrus looked up at him with this same deep pain as Mettaton.

"WHEN I FIRST MET HIM IT WAS JUST THE SAME. SORT OF. IT WAS THE FIRST TIME I FAILED UNDYNE'S ENTRY TEST FOR THE ROYAL GUARD. EXCEPT NO ONE ELSE HAD A TEST, JUST ME!" He added, exasperatedly.

"I TOLD HIM WHAT'D HAPPENED, AND HE ASKED ME IF I JUST SUCKED AT FIGHTING. SO I FOUGHT HIM, AND I SWEAR HE NEARLY KILLED ME."

"AND THEN HE SAID I SUCKED AT FIGHTING."

He smiled, bitterly. Mettaton nodded, feeling that very same bitterness run through him.

"AND THEN HE SAID HE COULD TRAIN ME. YOU CAN GUESS HOW THAT WENT."

Mettaton nodded again. He could. He could easily see Flowey casually swiping at Papyrus in a fight, or just straight up hitting him as some form of punishment.

"It must have been easy for him." Mettaton added, detachedly. 

"I LIKE TO THINK THAT HE THOUGHT HE WAS HELPING." Papyrus suggested, hopefully. 

Mettaton looked at him, and saw the monster before him was clearly the better man. 

"I- sure. Maybe. I hope so too." 

"How long were you two... God, friends isn't the right word, is it!" Mettaton asked, and Papyrus laughed in a sort of breathless way, and shook his head.

"I'M NOT SO GOOD WITH TIME, BUT IT COULDN'T HAVE BEEN MORE THAN... A FEW WEEKS?"

Mettaton stopped. He just stopped. 

"I'M ALMOST SCARED TO ASK NOW, BUT HOW LONG DID YOU... KNOW HIM FOR?"

"Two years," Mettaton breathed. He stared at the empty boxes of sushi.

"Here, let me clear this up and I'll get us some drinks. You like tea?"

Papyrus nodded, and got up to help, and Mettaton smiled. 

"I DON'T MIND IT!"

Mettaton smiled wider. 

"Good, because I have like 16 different kinds, so you should be able to pick something you like!" Dramatically, he flung open the cupboard that was filled with little cardboard boxes. They were all different colours and had different designs on them, and Papyrus couldn't distinguish between them.

While Papyrus was transfixed by his options, Mettaton quickly shoved all empty boxes into a bin. He didn't actually want Papyrus to have to help him clear the table, and he felt pretty crafty. Then he felt like scum for manipulating situations that really didn't need to be manipulated.

"WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE TEA, METTATON?"

"Mm" He mulled over the different teas he'd sampled. "I think I like the Lapsang Souchong the best of all. But I'm not sure if you'll like it-" 

"CAN I TRY IT?" He asked, excitedly.

And Mettaton couldn't quite bring himself to disappoint that smile. 

"Maybe just try some of mine, I've heard it's an acquired taste!" Mettaton cursed himself, that made him sound so superior.

But Papyrus didn't seem to notice, and only exclaimed that he would expect Mettaton to have an expert palette on these things, and Mettaton shook his head so as not to let the pride settle.

He boiled the tea, and thought about a flavour Papyrus might actually enjoy. Maybe a fruity, berry flavoured one? Something sweet, for sure, but what kind?

He put the bag of his own tea in the single cup, and poured the water over it. The aroma of the smoky tea immediately diffused in the room, and Mettaton snuck a look for Papyrus' immediate reaction. He didn't look impressed, and Mettaton smirked.

"IS THIS A CHALLENGE NOW? BECAUSE I WILLABSOLUTELY ENJOY THIS TERRIBLE SMELLING DRINK. I DO NOT MEAN I WILL PRETEND. I MEAN I WILL ENJOY!"

Mettaton snickered and handed him the cup, which Papyrus took confidently and took a very small and tentative sip.

"WOWIE, I ABSOLUTELY UNDERESTIMATED HOW TERRIBLE THIS DRINK TRULY IS!"

He passed the cup back, as if it were radioactive, which Mettaton took with a wry smile. He sipped from the side Papyrus drank from.

"WHY DO YOU HURT YOURSELF LIKE THIS? WHY?" He asked, in a cheerful play at horrified.

"I like the taste of fire, let me live!" 

"HOW AND WHY DID YOU ACQUIRE A TASTE LIKE THAT, AND HOW DO YOU REMOVE THAT, AND CAN I PLEASE HAVE A GLASS OF WATER?" 

Mettaton ran him a glass of water quickly, and selected another bag of tea from his sweet selection. He liked to collect and order things. It was the illusion of productivity that he craved!

"Here darling, I think this should be more your taste!" He handed Papyrus a pastel pink mug with a white lace design. It was the aesthetic he was going to design the whole apartment in, and he'd feel so much better when he let colour back into his life.

The air filled with cinnamon, and Papyrus' gaze grew soft. He took a sip and closed his eyes, appreciatively.

"NYEH HEH HEH THIS REMINDS ME OF HOME LIKE CRAZY! THERE WAS THIS LADY WHO MADE CINNAMON BUNNIES, AND THEY WERE SO GOOD."

He smiled happily, and Mettaton's heart melted.

"Tell me more about where you're from, please! It sounds nice there!" Because Mettaton had learned very quickly that watching Papyrus talk about his interests was one of life's joys.

Mettaton learned a lot about Snowdin. He learned that it was quiet, and boring, and freezing cold and had the best food. He learned that there was literally nothing there, just a library and one bar that served exactly burger or chips. He learned that the bar used to be the orphanage that he and Sans had spent a few years surviving in. He learned that Papyrus had taken the boat to Hotland to get to school every day, and, though Papyrus never said it, he learned that he was bullied in that school, and took to skipping school and just walking around Hotland instead.

"I NEVER LET MY BROTHER FIND OUT THAT I WAS SKIPPING SCHOOL LIKE A SEXY REBEL DELINQUENT BECAUSE- WELL, HE'D BE DISAPPOINTED. BUT JUST REALLY SCHOOL SUCKED!"

Mettaton nodded.

"I hated school too. No one ever talked to ghosts because they think we're creepy." He smiled, sadly. That word had utterly plagued his life, and the worst part about it was just how undeniable of a truth it was. Just yet another thing Mettaton put his hands over his ears and refused to hear.

"THAT'S SO WRONG! WE'RE LITERALLY ALL MONSTERS!!" He yelled, full of injustice.

Then something seemed to click, and he looked like the wind had been beaten out of his sails.

"THAT MUST BE WHY NO ONE WANTED TO TALK TO ME IN SCHOOL. 'CREEPY'." He murmured. He'd heard the word before, but had never, ever associated it with himself.

"You're not creepy, you're adorable!" Mettaton spilled, and then smiled to cover up his own shock at his own words. It didn't hide the panic in his eyes, and if Papyrus was ever going to see a resemblance between Mettaton and his creator, he'd have seen it then. 

Instead, Papyrus looked Mettaton dead in the eye, with a look in his eye that seemed to demand honesty. Mettaton held his stare, and felt as though he was being weighed up. And then Papyrus near collapsed on him, and pushed them both back into the kitchen counter.

Mettaton leaned his chin on Papyrus' head, and held on to his back. He could feel hands grasping at his waist, but not in the way he'd been pulled apart before. He felt as if he were being held together.

It took Mettaton a long time to realize that words were being whispered into his shoulder, and they sounded desperate.

"Say again, Pyrus," Mettaton murmured, pulling away from Papyrus.

"YOU-" He started breathlessly, before quickly running his hands over his skull. "YOU ACTUALLY LIKE ME, DON'T YOU?"

Mettaton would have laughed, if he didn't know how disastrously cruel it was to laugh when someone felt as despairing as Papyrus looked. He seemed terrified.

"Yes, I do. Enough to ask you on a date, actually, and bring you home too!" He chuckled gently, and brushed his thumb over Papyrus' cheekbone. He leaned deeply into the touch, and Mettaton just wanted to trace little pictures on each other for the rest of the night.

"I CAN'T DO ANYTHING FOR YOU." Papyrus told him, lazily, with his eyes shut as Mettaton drew ever more complicated designs on his face with his thumb.

Mettaton stopped, not understanding what Papyrus had told him.

"I CAN'T TAKE YOU ANYWHERE."

"That's okay, I get to take you places," Mettaton countered, quickly.

"I CAN'T BUY YOU ANYTHING!"

"I don't need you to, I like you, okay darling!" Mettaton started to worry that Papyrus was just looking for a way out.

Papyrus frowned, and opened his eyes. He straightened up, and Mettaton tensed.

"I CAN'T KISS YOU." He told him, and Mettaton noted several things about Papyrus. How he pressed his knees together, how he balled his fists and put his hand on his hip.

Mettaton broke into a smile. "Papyrus, I don't care! That doesn't matter to me!"

Papyrus looked relieved and sounded as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "REALLY?"

"Really." Mettaton confirmed, seriously. "I thought you were going to say you secretly despised my shows! Now then I would have had issues!" He laughed and shook his head when he saw Papyrus get ready to defend his love of Mettaton's shows.

"SORRY, FOR GETTING HEAVY ON THE FIRST DATE!" His face cracked into a smile as he said the word. "I'VE BEEN PRANKED A FEW TIMES BEFORE ABOUT THIS AND IT WASN'T FUNNY!" He looked deeply annoyed rather than emotionally devastated, as Mettaton knew he must have been. He knew he would have been. If people had dared to fake date him.

Mettaton had an idea.

"Beautiful, you've told me all about your home town. Care to know more about mine?"

Mettaton smiled until his eyes creased at Papyrus' perfect response of complete enthusiasm. He touched his hand, and squeezed it, Papyrus smiled dreamily, and Mettaton lead him back to the living room, to the plush cream rug, in front of the blank TV screen.

Mettaton stood up facing Papyrus, and found that he was holding both of his hands. Papyrus was blushing delicately, and Mettaton found himself actively resisting kissing the monster in front of him.

"IF YOU WANTED TO SHOW ME THE RUG, THEN TRUST ME, I NOTICED IT, AND ALSO I'M ENVIOUS OF IT."

Mettaton giggled, and shook his head.

"That's not quite it, but trust me, I appreciate your envy! No, what I wanted to show you was…" 

He laid down on the rug, and looked up at Papyrus, who was still standing over him, looking confused. Mettaton patted the rug, inviting him to lie down with him. 

With a commendably little trepidation, Papyrus got on the floor with Mettaton, without asking a single question.

"Back in Waterfall, among the ghosts, we have a little tradition. After we share a meal with someone, we like to feel like garbage together. But I always hated that. I felt like garbage enough, so I decided to feel like- like really good garbage. Like, the Harry Potter Boxset of garbage!" He laughed, and felt Papyrus intertwine their hands. He squeezed back, and smiled again.

"THAT SOUNDS KINDA LIKE FUN? WE'RE ONLY GOING TO FEEL LIKE GOOD GARBAGE THOUGH, PROMISE?"

Mettaton nodded.

"Only the best garbage." He assured him, seriously, and Papyrus laughed next to him. He looked over to him, and saw the smile lighting up his face, and Mettaton could have cried for not kissing him. But if he moved, then he knew that the magic wouldn't happen.

Mettaton thought of the endless cycle of garbage, and how they were suddenly on top of that cycle. He didn't feel like he thought he would. He felt sick, actually.

He thought of the Harry Potter Boxset he found when he was a little ghost. He lived in the dump, before the ghosts scavenged enough to buy the ranch. So it was natural he had all the best stuff, and all his 'friends' from the orphanage got over how creepy he was to see Harry Potter in it's completion. That had been one of the best days of his life.

The quiet thought was suddenly interrupted when Papyrus yelled!

"HOLY SHIT!! I CAN SEE SPACE!!"

Mettaton laughed, and nodded gently. The pink galaxy was always something magnificent to see, and always made him happy. He was so happy that somehow, this was a part of him.

They star-gazed for a long while. It could have been years, for all Mettaton could tell, as he pointed out little pieces of information he knew about the galaxy.

He knew it's name, and then he just made up some facts, that Papyrus lapped up, and fully accepted as jokes.

It was romantic. And better than that, it was close.

Mettaton was close to someone, someone that he'd known for less than a week, and he could only remember this day in it's entirety. And it felt so good.

Mettaton was speaking, without really knowing what he was saying anymore. He'd later forget every word spoken, but remember the feeling of laughing in space.

The laughs settled into a gentle silence, and they watched the galaxy undulate around them.

Then Papyrus' phone rang, piercing the near reverent quiet. Papyrus jumped, Mettaton started and Papyrus answered the phone.

"YES, BROTHER, HI."

He pinched the bridge of his nasal bone.

"YEAH, I KNOW. I KNOW! SANS, I'M AT METTATON'S!"

He stood up, and started pacing around the room.

"I GOT THE TRAIN! IT'S FINE! OH MY GOD, WE SPLIT THE FARE! JUST BECAUSE I HAVEN'T PAID HIM BACK YET DOESN'T MEAN I WON'T!"

Mettaton looked up, still lying on the floor. Papyrus had stomped his foot, and Mettaton had to stop himself from calling him cute. No one liked being called cute when they were angry, no matter how cute they were.

Papyrus just happened to be really hecking cute.

"THE TRAIN BACK IS FOR TOMORROW, SO I'M STAYING THE NIGHT, I GUESS!"

Papyrus rolled his eyes into the phone, and Mettaton suppressed a giggle.

"YES, BROTHER, I KNOW! OKAY! I KNOW! I ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT, OH MY GOD, SANS, JUST GO AWAY!"

Papyrus started stalking furiously around the room again, and this time Mettaton had to laugh, just a little.

"YEAH, I LOVE YOU TOO, BROTHER."

"OH MY GOD I'LL BE IN TIME FOR WORK TOMORROW!! I CAN DO TIME MANAGEMENT! I AM NOT SIX YEARS OLD, OKAY?"

"YES, I'M SORRY I SPOKE TO YOU LIKE THAT. I WILL NOT BE TAKING THAT TONE OF VOICE WITH YOU AGAIN, AND YOU NEED TO STOP SPENDING ALL YOUR TIME WITH TORIEL. SANS, FOR GOD'S SAKE, GET A GIRLFRIEND, OR A BOYFRIEND, OR A FRIEND-"

Papyrus laughed into the receiver, and muttered something that sounded like, "YEAH, THAT SHUT YOU UP!"

"YES. BROTHER, I'LL SEE YOU TOMORROW! BYE!"

And Mettaton burst out laughing.

Papyrus looked sheepish, as if he didn't get the joke, so Mettaton stopped. He didn't want to make Papyrus feel inferior or self conscious.

"You and your brother are just precious!" He laughed, more gently.

"OH! NYEH HEH HEH, HE'S LAZY AND OVERBEARING, BUT I GUESS I'M STUCK WITH HIM."

He looked pensive for a moment.

"ACTUALLY, HE'S A REALLY GREAT BROTHER." He sat back down on the rug, next to Mettaton. "IT'S JUST THAT... THE FLOWER MADE ME FORGET THE GOOD THINGS ABOUT THE PEOPLE I LOVE, SO I'VE TRIED TO STOP TAKING THEM FOR GRANTED SO MUCH."

Mettaton nodded, immediately fascinated, but Papyrus didn't seem so willing to offer any more.

"WHAT MADE YOU INVITE ME UP HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE?" He asked, conversationally.

Protests and lies rose in Mettaton's throat, but he swallowed them down.

"Honestly, I just didn't really want to be alone tonight. Alphys and I had a bit of a row in the car. I can't remember what happened. I may have called her girlfriend ugly, and I may have just realised I called your best friend ugly too. I'm a disaster. Who needed a little company?"

"A lonely disaster."

He flopped back on the floor, and Papyrus followed suit. After all, the rug was particularly plush.

"What possessed you to actually do it?"

"DO WHAT?" Papyrus asked, innocently.

"Come all the way here? It's not exactly a five minute drive!" He smiled, airily, but only really by way of suggesting the conversation was meant to be friendly, not accusatory.

Papyrus stared resolutely at the plaster ceiling. Space had long evaporated away, and it'd take too much concentration to bring it back now.

"I GUESS IT'S BECAUSE YOU ASKED!"

And without really thinking about it, because it felt right, and because he felt like it was what he needed, Mettaton shuffled closer to Papyrus, and thought nothing about the other man's arm slung across his back. He was propped up on his elbows, and looking at Papyrus, who seemed defenceless, lying on his back like that.

And maybe because it was bordering 3:00 am, and maybe because he could say he was sleepy when really, really he was at 48% battery and fully able to comprehend what he was doing, he leaned in, just a little.

Papyrus was taught beneath him, the space between them was narrowing, and Mettaton was so, so afraid he'd do something that'd damage this bud of a relationship before it could even bloom.

But he left a gentle, deliberate kiss on Papyrus' cheek anyway.

Quickly, he looked at Papyrus, who looked utterly blown away. Mettaton froze.

"Darling? Was that okay?" Papyrus heard the concern in his voice, and nodded quickly.

"THAT WAS- THAT WAS-"

Mettaton stared at him, in anticipation, but no longer felt worried. Papyrus seemed somewhere between thrilled and ecstatic.

Papyrus seemed to melt, and relax and Mettaton smiled brightly.

"THAT WAS GREAT." 

Mettaton nodded. It was the best first kiss he'd ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh thank you lovely people for being patient with me! This chapter managed to delete itself not only once, but twice! I LOVE TECHNOLOGY. But i'm not particularly in love with this chapter, so I'll especially look forward to some feedback this chapter! Anyway, thank you for sticking with this dumb fic that is absolutely nothing like as advertised.


	16. I've Never Felt So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many new feelings for these poor boys.

Somehow, the first kiss had turned into fifty, and then possibly a hundred.

Magic, how that happened.

Subtly, Mettaton plugged himself into the wall. Even though he knew his window for being self-conscious about his battery life was well and truly over, he still managed to feel shy enough to quickly plug himself in while Papyrus was marvelling at his synth. 

"Oh, it's a bit like a piano, but I guess it's a little easier, and you can make it sound different!"

Papyrus looked at him with curiously, so Mettaton had to oblige him. He let Papyrus put the little keyboard into his lap, so he had to play it. It would almost be rude not too.

"So, this is how it normally sounds," he demonstrated with a quick chord. It was an electric sound, and one Mettaton didn't particularly care for. But with a few flicks of a few dials, he found a sound font he particularly liked.

Papyrus looked mesmerised, so naturally Mettaton had to play him something. Mettaton used to write a few songs. Nothing special, nothing like what Blooky could produce. But occasionally Mettaton would play his cousin something that they'd sample and loop and perfect it until the sounds became something beautiful.

Unfortunately for Papyrus, the four simple chords were just a basic rhythm that hadn't been graced with Napstablook's artful ear. Curiously enough, he seemed as entranced by the simple song as anyone had ever been. 

Mettaton revelled in the attention before he could stop himself, and even before he could hate himself. In a flash of inspiration, he started recording his work on the little synth, and improvised a little solo.

He realised he'd been far too in the zone when Papyrus applauded him when he stopped.

"You must be my muse! To be honest, I haven't been able to make any music for such a long time…" He smiled before he got sad.

Papyrus touched his hand to his chest.

"ME? YOUR MUSE? OH METTATON, I'M HONOURED!"

Mettaton dropped the synth to tackle Papyrus into a quick hug, that overbalanced and sent Mettaton sprawling over his brand-new muse.

They laughed and kissed until suddenly they were whispering and giggling in the dark.

They fell asleep in their clothes in Mettaton's bed, and Papyrus set his alarm for 5:00 am, which they both agreed was long enough to get breakfast and get ready for work at a nice, leisurely pace.

 

It was so oppressively dark, underground. Even inside, where the lights were dim to create some kind of atmosphere, that atmosphere was just sour and thin and depressing. Hot pink balloons clung to the ceiling, untethered but kept in place by barriers. Mettaton stared at them wistfully. A ceiling could be burned down, ripped off, and the whole damn building could be raised to the ground. If only the real barrier had such physical weaknesses.

It was dark, and Mettaton could still see the resentful crowd.

Mettaton decided that the pitch black was the obvious culprit for all his problems, and scowled at the small crowd of "party goers".

Even though it was a funeral, and a coronation, and a celebration, they'd all decided to ask Mettaton questions about his policies. About what was wrong with the underground, and how to fix it. And all Mettaton had planned to do was get wasted and dance, and then cry about Alphys later. 

Why was the underground so overcrowded? Someone had asked generally, but all eyes had gone to Mettaton and he had to say something. He had nothing, but he really, really had to say something.

So, it _had_ to be the dark.

Why was education so phenomenally shit underground?

Someone angry had slurred that, and smashed a bottle down on the table. Despite himself, Mettaton had jumped. That wasn't good, there was no confidence in that.

He coughed and suggested that was probably the dark's fault too.

The same monster yelled back, almost hysterical and bordering on tears, but still the most powerful creature in the room.

"Why is everyone falling down?"

Surely, that was the dark too.

And then there was the call, a demand for what he could do about all this damned darkness, and that was the one thing he knew. He knew all about that, and he thought for sure that glitterwalls and spotlights and a yearlong Giftmas would raise a cheer out of… out of at least someone.

The surly silence was crushing, and Mettaton was fully aware that he was being humiliated. He certainly felt humiliated. There was an anger that no monster truly felt comfortable with, but couldn't really deny. They were all so, so furious, and at the moment, that wrath was directed at their party king.

Out of spite, Mettaton made everyone stay and fester in the misery and the directionless anger, and everyone had such a horrible time until it all looped back around when someone put on loud music that pulsed through the desecrated floors of the judgement hall.

Bottles flew through windows, fights broke out, and people danced wildly. The anger and the fear blurred until Mettaton felt invincible, and the funeral-coronation became the hateful, cathartic party that no one could _say_ they enjoyed…

No one had done that under Asgore. They'd never burned a laboratory down in a huge mob, and cried and danced in the ashes before. And they'd never seen their King howl until he found someone to give him a twirl.

Nursing hangovers and memories of the unbelievable, no one thought that Mettaton would be a good King, but they no longer doubted he'd be an inactive King who'd rest on his figurehead status. 

Mettaton never included burning labs in his list of things that the monsters felt like they were owed, but he remembered how all that violence got them all on side.

Now all he needed to do was make someone tell him how to back up his glitterwalls and bonfires with some logic.

At first, that's what the agents were for. They were more like advisors, in the beginning. Sans taught him about the link between physical darkness and falling down, and he taught Mettaton about the single school in the underground, and he taught Mettaton about the importance of more orphanages and work.

For at least two weeks, Mettaton put real effort into the economy and employment sector, and re-established a welfare system that, to literally everyone's surprise, was actually really effective.

Although Mettaton had no idea how or why, but he'd actually chosen the perfect agents. They were popular, and since his last little outburst, Sans was at least polite. Occasionally, Sans would be funny, which was always more civil than the icy tolerance the grumpy skeleton seemed to wake up with sometimes. Despite his own unreliable moods, Sans seemed to aptly interpret the moods of the public, and genuinely seemed to know what to tell Mettaton to make everything better.

And what Mettaton did to the underground, Papyrus did for him. It made a little sense though, after all, Papyrus… was nice to look at, and his bizarre yet harmless humour had a lovely way of taking the edge off. More and more, Mettaton soaked up Papyrus' time that really couldn't have been better spent. Officially, Papyrus was paid to stand around and look cute. He was furniture. 

But he was fun and sweet furniture, and he certainly had a lot to teach Mettaton about how to win people over. Walking with Papyrus seemed to reduce the risks of being screamed at in public, and including Papyrus in his little broadcasts seemed to soothe the nation. Something about his Snowdin boy demeanour, the way he believed that Mettaton's policies were both functional and would really change things for the better. He believed, and for a while, it seemed that the skeleton's optimism and faith was infectious.

It turned out the opposition had gone quiet like a child always would while getting up to no good, and Mettaton wasn't the experienced mother who knew to distrust the silence, no matter how much he begged for the peace.

It was dusty. It wasn't as dusty as the day the child fell. But there was enough dust to stir the specks in the minds of the monsters, until there was an avalanche of dust and Mettaton had commit a genocide instead of… There was no glamorous way to say mass-public execution.

Sickly though, there were certainly glamorous ways to broadcast it though, and Mettaton felt Sans' glare burn into him as he smiled down the camera and let the axe swing. The heads would roll if they weren't so impermanent, which Mettaton loved. It was like he could pretend this was all temporary, that his LOVE would go back down 12 LVs and the six dogs accused of high treason would resume their physical state and continue living instead of being loose, pale dust.

 

Mettaton jolted awake, abruptly. He reached immediately for his journal, already feeling the fleeting memories drain from his mind like water in cupped palms. By the time Mettaton had his journal out, he only remembered one part of his nightmare. 

'EXECUTION? REVOLUTION? I WON?

The stench of the burning laboratory clung to him. A horrible thought rose to the surface of his mind, and popped like a bubble.

'I burned the lab down- DID THEY GET OUT?'

He tried desperately to think back, but he couldn't remember if the screams were the joyful yells of the monsters or the terrified, burning Amalgamates.

He was sitting bolt upright in bed, shaking, and staring at the page, trying to conjure some answers and finding nothing.

He couldn't believe this strange series of dreams were just works of his own mind. There was too much chronological order, it made too much sense, and despite himself, he just hoped that he wasn't so sick that he unconsciously wanted these things.

When Papyrus woke up, Mettaton was hugging his knees and rocking gently on the bed.

"DID YOU HAVE A BAD DREAM?" He asked, sounding tired for the first time Mettaton had known him. He didn't know it was actually possible for him.

Mettaton nodded in the darkness, not trusting his voice.

Papyrus sat up in the bed, without a word, and cuddled him close. Mettaton relaxed into the embrace, and closed his eyes. He felt sick. Doing what he was doing to this innocent person. Living around him, letting Papyrus enjoy him like this, all without knowing exactly what the _fuck_ he was doing when he comforted something like him.

He was speaking before he could let his thoughts and better judgement get the better of him.

"I killed people, Papyrus." He mumbled, softly, into the warmth and darkness.

He felt Papyrus stiffen, and Mettaton trembled again. It was way too late to backtrack, though.

"IN YOUR DREAM?"

"No. Well, yes, but not just in my dream. I killed real monsters."

Papyrus gasped, and Mettaton felt a sting in his eyes.

He would not cry. He clenched his teeth together until they hurt. Because he wasn't going to cry and exploit all of Papyrus' good nature until he got someone to tell him it was okay. Because none of it was okay.

"WHY?" His voice sounded hurt, betrayed. Mettaton could feel Papyrus' breaths against his chest, coming shorter and harder, and he hated himself.

"I'm sorry!" He blurted, desperately. "I didn't want to. He made me though, and-"

Mettaton took a shuddering breath, and steadied himself. His shaking body stilled.

"It was my fault though. I needed you to know."

Papyrus got out of bed, and Mettaton felt freezing. The dread spilled over and he swiped at his eyes quickly. It wasn't his place to feel upset.

Papyrus flicked the lights on, and it was much worse. For Mettaton to actually _see_ the devastation- usually he just closed his eyes or just ran away.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?"

Through the fog that defenced on Mettaton's mind, he was aware that Papyrus was actually terrified. A distinctly bad thing, he knew. He couldn’t stop shivering, and he didn’t look at Papyrus who was practically clinging to the light switch that happened to be next to the door.

He couldn’t make himself say the words, and Papyrus seemed increasingly frustrated by the second. He reminded himself he was seeing anger where there was actually fear. Whether that was a side effect of the LOVE or just something Mettaton did, he wasn’t quite sure.

"METTATON, I THINK I HAVE A BIT OF A RIGHT TO KNOW ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THIS. I- I DON’T THINK I’D BE COMFORTABLE-" That was enough to hotwire Mettaton’s stalling brain into talking.

‘Flowey physically made me. The first few times, there was- he literally, ah, took up residence in my body to- to-‘

He looked meaningfully at Papyrus, praying he wouldn’t have to spell out exactly what happened, how the knife had come down without his permission, how it pierced the skin before the dust flew, first just a little, and then suddenly a whole lot, before the look in their eyes and then-

He was glad Papyrus seemed to catch his drift. ‘By the time I got to LV 4, it was easy enough to- to kill- that he only needed to watch.’

Papyrus’ eyes looked somewhat feral. ‘FLOWEY MADE YOU GO ALL THE WAY TO LEVEL 4?’

And Mettaton felt like scum. He felt like dirt, he wanted to be washed clean, but he didn’t know how much of him would be left.

‘OH MY GOD, IT WAS MORE THAT LEVEL 4!’ Papyrus clasped his hands to his mouth, like he was trying not to be sick, and was leant weakly against the door. Mettaton was trying to breath without falling apart.

‘METTATON. WHAT’S YOUR LEVEL OF VIOLENCE?’ Mettaton’s audio filter seemed to tunnel. He lay back on the bed. Papyrus took a tentative step forward, and Mettaton’s SOUL thrilled and his mind reeled.

‘METTATON, THIS IS IMPORTANT. PLEASE.’

‘LV 2.’ Mettaton croaked. Before, when he’d though about it, he’d laughed until he was crying dry tears and pounding the floor. He felt numb though, now. For a long while, Papyrus looked like he was trying to catch up with something he’d missed, and Mettaton let him, let him struggle until he asked. He needed the time to figure out how he could possibly explain it.

‘THAT DOESN’T-‘

‘It does, a bit. Not really, but there's an explanation. What happened was, I got to LV 8-‘

Papyrus made an aghast whimper, and Mettaton really, really hated himself.

‘And then there was an up and coming new star. Siren, Shyren’s sister. Flowey told me that she had to be murdered, but if it looked like there was a struggle, I’d look suspicious. So, he called her on the phone, and told her she was trash. A few hours later, he made me do it. We took it in turns.’

Mettaton was rocking again, letting his eyes remain unfocussed. He could still see her, floating in the air, right next to her sister. He wasn’t looking at Papyrus, who looked increasingly disgusted by the second.

‘Eventually, he had me planting echo flowers by her house, just to say- to say twisted shit to her!’ He cursed himself. He was trying to let Papyrus be the judge, and present the case without bias.

‘I didn’t realise what the hell was happening until she fell down. She would, you know? Anyone would. The things I said about her, and her life, and her sister-‘

He broke off. His voice had hitched and warped on that last word, and he tilted his head up. The tears just slipped down his face faster, and Mettaton brushed them off, harshly.

‘And I remembered that thing Alphys was doing just after she built me. The thing with the dead bodies. What else was she doing with them if she wasn’t curing them? I had no idea, and until then, I didn’t care. I should have known that if Flowey was letting me do it then it was the wrong thing to do but- but. But I took her to Alphys.’

‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND, WHAT’S WRONG WITH ALPHYS?’ He asked, seeming to be bordering hysteria.

‘She wasn’t curing the dead, they just ended up all-‘

‘OH MY GOD, I JUST REMEMBERD ABOUT THE AMALGAMATES.’ Mettaton nodded, solemnly.

‘I woke up back to LV 2, and I- I was so stupid. I told Flowey, because I didn’t know who else I could tell and- and he was so angry. He, he beat me up and then I never saw him again.’

‘WHEN DID ALL OF THIS… _HAPPEN?_ ’

‘Two and a half years ago,’ Mettaton answered, instantly. He had the luxury of being a free star for a year and a half, and then he got a whole year on the surface just to wallow in the full trauma.

‘THAT WAS WHEN FLOWEY FIRST SPOKE TO ME. AND HE FIRST GOT ME TO TRY AND KILL THE DAY BEFORE FRISK FELL, SO I HAD A VERY LUCKY ESCAPE, AND I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WENT THROUGH ALL THIS, AND OH GOD, PLEASE DON’T CRY!’

But Mettaton was crying in earnest, and let the sobs just shake straight through him. He felt like things were trying to shake themselves right out of his SOUL and into the physical world. He felt like he was dying.

And he was shouting, shouting all the things he begged himself not to say out loud.

‘I’ve been absolutely ruined!’

‘I should have found a way to kill him, Papyrus! So many monsters died and it was all my fault!’

‘Papyrus, I don’t think I deserve to live.’

He was pulled into a crushing hug with that, and he stopped talking. His hair was plastered to his face, his shirt was wet with tears and he was still juddering in Papyrus’ arms.

‘You must hate me.’ He whimpered, his voice cracked and high pitched, and mortifying. Mettaton felt shame, so much deep, cutting shame that he thought he'd fall apart with the weight of it.

‘NO! NO, OF COURSE I DON’T HATE YOU! I HATE FLOWEY!’ He paused for a moment, and an ugly, radiant look came on Papyrus’ face.

‘I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY FUCKING HATE FLOWEY!’ He yelled, fiercely, and Mettaton smiled, weakly.

‘Me too,’ he whispered. Papyrus held his hand, and squeezed it. His strength was reassuring, and Mettaton felt a little lighter.

"I'M SORRY! WHEN YOU SAID THAT, ABOUT KILLING, I THOUGHT YOU MEANT THERE WAS A FIGHT, OR THAT YOU JUST LIKED KILLING PEOPLE OR SOMETHING, I DIDN'T THINK OF FLOWEY!"

"We all try our best not to, don't you think?" He murmured, lightly. He felt like he'd been drained. It was strange to think that there was now someone else who knew exactly what had happened.

Well, Papyrus didn't really know. Not the feeling of someone crumbling beneath your hands, not the feeling of being pulled like a puppet. He didn't know what it was like for killing to become almost easy. But someone at least knew what happened.

"Do you think I'd go to jail?" Mettaton asked, feeling worried but sounding relaxed. Papyrus, however, panicked.

"OH JESUS! METTATON, DO YOU THINK YOU WOULD?"

He turned the question over and over, until Mettaton had halfway convinced himself he should just go and confess and live out the rest of his days in prison.

"NO! NO, YOU COULDN'T! IT WAS BASICALLY A HOSTAGE SITUATION! YOU HAD TO, OTHERWISE- OTHERWISE-"

The idea was strange to Mettaton. It was like being told 'not guilty'.

"I'm so glad I told you," he breathed. It was still so dark outside, and when Papyrus checked the time, it was still only 4:30, and they'd barely been asleep for forty-five minutes.

Mettaton hadn't paid much attention to that, he was still slumped against Papyrus' chest. As if he were trying to absorb the forgiveness and love through osmosis.

"I'M SO GLAD YOU TOLD ME, TOO. IT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME."

Mettaton smiled into his chest, and fell asleep with fingers carding through his hair and soft, forgiving words in his ear. It was everything and more that he could hope for, and a million times more than he felt like he deserved. In the remaining half an hour they slept, Mettaton slept easily.

He woke up pressed to Papyrus, warm and feeling exhausted already, and for a second, he didn’t know why. Then reality re-established itself in Mettaton’s mind, and a cloud passed over his heart. Papyrus pressed his cheek to Mettaton’s before nudging his body off of his own. Mettaton groaned, sleepily, but complied.

He followed Papyrus to his own lounge, and watch the man make coffee in his kitchen. He made one for Mettaton without a word. With a rising feeling of dread, Mettaton realised they hadn’t actually spoken yet, since he’d confessed to murder.

‘Are we going to talk about…’ He started, fiddling with the hem of his skirt. He’d slept in it, it was creased and Mettaton was only worrying it further.

‘ONLY IF YOU WANT TO! DO YOU FEEL OKAY?’ He was so full of concern. Mettaton’s eyes burned again, but he was humiliated enough. He swiped the coffee off the counter before Papyrus could pour milk in. He nodded into the cup, and ‘mm-ed’ his confirmation of his emotional stability.

He jolted and spilled a little coffee down his front when Papyrus placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

‘YOU CAN TALK TO ME, YOU KNOW! ABOUT ALL OF IT!’ Mettaton looked at him in the trusting eyes, and felt the guilt in his throat just rise and strangle him like vines.

‘I- thank you. But don’t you need to get ready?’ He asked, quickly. Papyrus looked at him suspiciously, but agreed with him for a moment. He quickly chugged down his coffee, and then sat in the sofa.

‘Darling, forgive me, but you don’t look like you’re getting very ready?’

‘WELL, I’M READY NOW! MY UNIFORM IS AT HOME, SO I’LL GET CHANGED THERE. SO THERE’S NOTHING LEFT FOR ME TO DO, REALLY! I WAS ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT PREPARED!’

Mettaton nodded, and sat down next to him. He just wished he could dispel his unease.

‘I’ve never told anyone about any of that. Papyrus, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else.’

‘I HONESTLY WASN’T PLANNING ON TELLING ANYONE, BUT NOW I DEFINITELY WON’T! YOU CAN ABSOLUTELY TRUST ME TO DEFINITELY NOT TELL ANYONE AT ALL, AND I'M FRANKLY A LITTLE OFFENDED YOU EVEN THOUGHT I WOULD!’

Mettaton relaxed back in his chair, and sighed. He still felt miserable.

‘Oh, Papyrus, what do you think of me?’ He despaired.

‘I THINK YOU’VE BEEN THROUGH A LOT, AND I THINK YOU’RE VERY STRONG, AND I THINK THAT YOU WERE JUST SURVIVING WHEN YOU- WHEN YOU DID THE THINGS YOU DID. AND I DON’T THINK ANYONE CAN BLAME YOU. METTATON, I’M HERE FOR YOU!’

Mettaton leant on him again, pressing as much of himself as he could to as much as Papyrus as possible.

‘Thank you.’ He swallowed. ‘I’ve never felt so, so-‘

He sighed.

‘YEAH! NO, I KNOW!’

And for the first time, Mettaton really, really believed someone when they said that. He looked at Papyrus with a look of wonder, and watched him blush under his gaze.

50 kisses became a hundred, they made out on the couch in their own way, all kisses placed delicately and roughly and lovingly to cheeks and to fingers and to noses, and fingers running through hair.

‘I THINK I LOVE YOU.’ Papyrus breathed into the shell of Mettaton’s ear, sounding blown out.

‘I think I love you too,’ Mettaton sighed. He was completely amazed, and Papyrus laughed gently. They pulled away, just to properly look at each other.

Mettaton was smiling, ear to ear, and Papyrus squealed. It was 6:30 a.m., and Mettaton knew this was the best day of his life.

He also knew that he had to walk Papyrus to the train station, and out of his life.

But only for a little while. He’d make sure of that.

After Papyrus fell off the sofa, they’d finally made it their business to start to make a move. It was slow progress with all the giggling and kissing and the happiness that overflowed and bubbled and left life feeling shiner and brighter than ever before.

All too soon though, Mettaton was locking his apartment door, already mourning the fact that Papyrus wouldn’t be coming back home with him. Westerlyn was as busy in the early hours of the morning as it was in midday as it was in the middle of the night. It wasn’t a place that slept easily, tossing and turning and writhing with traffic instead.

Mettaton was always somewhat hypnotised by this, and he was thrilled to see that Papyrus appeared exactly as enthralled as he was. It was great to see.

They enjoyed the sound of noise and life until they reached the train station.

‘METTATON!’

‘Yes darling!’ Mettaton asked, excited by Papyrus’ excitement.

‘NEXT WEEK THERE’S A TALENT CONTEST BACK IN MONSTERTOWN! EVERYONE’S BRINGING A PLUS ONE SO. UM! WOULD YOU LIKE TO COME WITH ME? AS A DATE!’

Mettaton was already nodding his head, even as they were striding through the busy station.

‘I can’t think of anything I’d love more! Oh! It will be just so lovely to see everyone again!’

Papyrus nodded, and they started speculating about who they thought might be there, and what talents they might perform.

‘I DON’T KNOW HOW ASGORE WOULD EXACTLY PORTRAY HIS TALENT FOR BEING A KING IN A SHOW, BUT THAT IS ABSOLUTELY WHAT HE SHOULD DO!’

‘Alphys could probably just grab some people’s phones and make a functioning worm-hole to another dimension, and she still wouldn't think it was a talent unless she found real anime there.’

‘MY BROTHER SAYS HE’S SIGNED UP, BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HE’LL DO! HE HAS ZERO TALENTS!’ He paused, and looked embarrassed. ‘APART FROM BEING A GREAT BROTHER. A GREAT, LAZY, USELESS BUT VERY GREAT BROTHER.’

Mettaton looked at him, worriedly, but he didn’t really have an opportunity to discuss it. They were on the platform, so it was time to cram in as much romance as he could to last him through his Papyrus-less week. They looked at each other, trying to find something romantic to say. They just hugged instead, and Mettaton kissed Papyrus gently. Papyrus leant into the kiss with an affection that left Mettaton disarmed and in love.

‘I love you.’ Mettaton told him, again.

‘I LOVE YOU TOO!’ Papyrus nearly screamed with the overwhelming happiness. And then the train pulled up, whisked Papyrus away, and left Mettaton already missing him on the train station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like that first bit before the nightmare ought to go at the end of the last chapter, but I don't want it to get missed, so it's here instead and I'll change it some other time, after I generally fix this whole fic!! Again, Kudos and especially comments genuinely fuel my writing, so if you like this chapter, please give it some love! Thank you so much to everyone who's supported this fic! I don't think I'd still be writing it without your help!


	17. edgy dad jokes (The Aristocrats)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad laughs. Like, really bad laughs. Gonna put a trigger warning here for violence within a joke and hope you don't get too disgusted. PLEASE google the Aristocrats before you read this, just so you don't judge me too hard, really. For anyone who doesn't know and can't be fucked to google (i feel you) the aristocrats is basically, a real old joke that's kinda an inside joke for comedians, meant to be more disturbing than the last person who told it! So basically read with caution! and don't judge me please.

The walk back from the station just didn't feel as enchanted as the walk there, and Mettaton knew which variable he had to blame. It had been two minutes and he missed Papyrus.  
He went back to his apartment to sulk, and he barely looked in the shop windows at the humans and clothes and beautiful displays.

He texted Alphys when he got in. He hated not being friends with her, and when she felt like she was in the right, she would not be the one to apologise first. In a previous life, Mettaton would have simply made sure that Alphys always felt like she was in the wrong, because ultimately, Mettaton had been terrible.

He was beginning to realise though, that he had been made that way. Been forced into someone else's mould, pieces of him carved off, and others grafted onto him that just didn't fit.  
It wasn't that he was an evil monster, it was that Flowey had created a whole new Mettaton for him to be. And after years of careful attention, Mettaton had grown into it. 

The realisation did not leave Mettaton feeling guilt free. Faces of the monsters he'd murdered still haunted him. The increasing violence of the dreams that plagued the next six nights were leaving him exhausted and shaken. More monsters were starting to resist him, and Mettaton couldn't keep track of them all, so he'd started sending out the brothers to find the elusive trouble makers and... deal with them. In the dream, Papyrus wasn't holding up with his orders, and to the waking Mettaton's horror, started to take refuge in King Mettaton. It was a stressful situation.

Mettaton had to make up with Alphys. 

He didn't care how, he just knew how much he missed her chatter, and having someone he could be at least some version of himself. He'd apologised, first for calling Undyne ugly, and then for not trusting Alphys' machinery after all the work she'd put in to be a better scientist. It turned out the latter was the actual point of contention.

They laughed about that on the phone, and Alphys apologised for being so pushy and sensitive about her science, and told him that he was right to question the stuff she gave him. It felt like they talked on the phone for hours. In actual fact, it was merely hours.

Alphys met up with him two days before the talent show. At first they'd chatted idly, and then, naturally, they'd started to talk about Mettaton's little date. And Mettaton had just relayed her the happiest, best parts that he knew would drive her wild.

She was so damn happy for him, and he was just thrilled that it was all finally happening to him.

He worked on YouTube, and produced the videos with a dark sense of humour that it turned out the Internet craved. He finally found a medium that wanted to hear his problems, as long as he could serve them with a joke and a laugh, there were people out there just ready to relate to Mettaton's darkest thoughts and most gripping fear. There was somewhere that would let his bitterness and his anger and his fear blossom into something that didn't need to be hidden by the high budget action and the cheesy puns.

YouTube suited him well, and his approval on Buzzfeed was great. They liked his work and they admitted cheerfully that they were 'surprised and delighted' by his professionalism.That had stung actually, but seeing the way he'd behaved in public for a certain six months after he reached the surface, he understood where they were coming from.

He didn't correct them, just thanked them for the feedback and continued to meet his deadlines.

He emailed Toriel, asking if she was still interested in introducing a permanent drama club in the school. He hoped she'd say yes, he'd really felt like he was making a difference when he was teaching the children. It was exactly what he'd have loved to have had for himself when he was young.

He texted Papyrus everything. He wanted to stay very much alive in Papyrus' mind, wanted Papyrus to think of him as much as Mettaton thought of Papyrus.

He wasn't even ashamed to admit how besotted with Papyrus he was. Alphys had laughed at him, but he'd shrugged and reminded her how she had once had a crush on the void and anime characters, as well as her boss. It was important to firmly remind Alphys who she was to judge. 

Alphys judged anyway, in her non-offensive and loving way.

It hurt to realise that he never had a clue what he really wanted. He thought he could leave love and friendship out of his life for the sake of fame. 

He reminded himself he was forced to believe it was a one-or-the-other kind of thing.

He texted Papyrus, asking what he was going to wear, and Papyrus told him it should be fairly casual, but the King was going to be there, so he didn't know whether it was treason not to wear a tie.

After a lot of discussion, they concluded that a shirt and jeans was the kind of look they needed in their lives, whether everyone else was going to be in black tie or pyjamas.

He convinced Alphys not to wear anime merch, and decisively took her shopping. He filmed bits of it too, in case he wanted to make a vlog. Since he was already in the store, he was practically obligated to buy a few new things for himself, like an entire new outfit, and came back feeling pleased to see Alphys looking so gorgeous in a brand new strappy, 50's inspired, floral print dress.

"Undyne's not gonna know what to do when she sees you!" 

Alphys blushed and said something to the effect of "I bet she could figure something out", but Mettaton wasn't ready to hear that. 

She complimented his new pastel pink dress shirt, and his new light blue jeans. It was nice, complimenting each other and enjoying being beautiful.

Mettaton didn't want to ask, but eventually Alphys brought up fixing Mettaton's memory. He was grateful really, sitting by the computer and feeling everything make sense. He should only feel grateful, but he couldn't help the feeling of helplessness permeating him.

"It always is so strange that my entire life is just… stored here. And can be messed with, just like that." 

He honestly hadn't meant to sound so sad. He tried again.

"It's like, what is life if it can just be… played with like this?" 

Alphys was always so quiet when she worked, so he hadn't really expected an answer. After a few moments, though, she took off her glasses and wiped them in the corner of her pale pink mini skirt. 

"It's hard to say, really. But it's still worth it, right?"

Mettaton felt the conversation grow heavy with the past.

"Absolutely, darling. I wouldn't trade this for the world!"

She smiled at him, and Mettaton smiled honestly back. He felt like this wasn't the best conversation to have with Alphys. In fact, this was just the sort of conversation he should have with Papyrus! Talking to Papyrus about the heavy stuff in life was something of a wonder to behold, because he had this enchanting way of finding a silver lining to absolutely everything! He had this fantastic way of finding everything worthwhile and good, and it was so great to just hear some positivity! 

Especially from someone who was at least a little bit like himself. Had the same kind of experience, he just came out of it less-

"You really think the world of him, don't you?" Alphys had teased.

"Oh, I forgot that you could read my mind. Can you not?" He asked, taking faux offence.

"Nope! It's great to see you so happy!" 

Mettaton had smiled again, feeling happy at the mere thought that some other person could actually make him happy. He'd been told over and over again that he was too rotten inside for such things.

 

It was Mettaton's turn to get the train. They'd agreed that they would all meet at Papyrus' and then drive up to Grillby's in Monstertown. 

At first, Mettaton couldn't see the one, glaring problem with travelling up to Monstertown in the car. Then, on the train, he realised that if only Undyne and Papyrus were driving, then there was a chance that he would have to share the car either with Undyne and Alphys (unbearable, he'd rather die), or Papyrus and Sans (terrifying, he probably would die.) 

He knew that Alphys wouldn't be drinking any of the fun, girly cocktails she'd taken a liking to, because she was driving. Which meant that Undyne had the potential to be drinking. Which could mean that she'd unwind a little, and maybe stop with the hardass vibe she had going on. But at the same time, he could picture her as the competitive and somewhat violent drunk. She was known for her property damage even sober.

He couldn't deny he was nervous, not when Papyrus asked him with so many emojis. They'd been texting the entire train journey over, and Mettaton couldn't say Papyrus was really building his confidence. He couldn't stop talking about how tense Undyne seemed, and how Sans was basically refusing to get ready, and would probably continue to refuse to get ready until the last thirty seconds. Mettaton actually ended up doing most of the reassuring, which was pretty nice of him, really, when he felt so jittery himself.

It wasn't exactly a big occasion. He'd met the parents, so to speak, no matter how unexpectedly. Of course, they hadn't been dating then, but they were a few hours later. So, it couldn't really make that much difference.

Seeing the King wouldn't exactly be scary either, considering everyone saw the King most days, really. Especially in Hotland, where the King could be seen walking around and chatting to Vulkins several times a day.

Seeing Toriel wouldn't be a problem either, considering they'd already met and she'd let him run a drama club. Admittedly, that was a little while ago now, so maybe she secretly hated him. But he seriously doubted that, and would keep doubting that until he had literally any proof to suggest that.

It wasn't that he was scared of seeing anyone. Undyne was tough, and Sans was plain scary, but Mettaton knew he could handle that. It wasn't anyone that was scaring him. It was everyone.

He was honestly terrified to see everyone at once, in front of Papyrus- the guy that he didn't so much as want to impress as just not look a laughing stock, or worse, be exposed for the genuinely awful person he was.

Not that there was all that much room for exposition now.

That wasn't true. Just because Papyrus knew what he had done, didn't mean he knew what kind of person he was. And Mettaton was happy to keep it that way, make sure Papyrus only knew about the person he currently tried to be every damn day.

He stopped bouncing his leg, he could feel it annoying the humans around him, and he just didn't want to have to argue in public before he met his boyfriend. And his boyfriend's friends and family, and they Royal family, and all the people from the past he was trying so very hard to distance himself from.

He sighed and put his head into his folded arms on the table. It was very dramatic and also soothing. If he never got off this train, he'd be okay with that.

The train stopped. It was time to get off the train and find his way to Papyrus' flat.

Mettaton surveyed the scene greeting him, and couldn't help but feel uneasy. Everything was concrete and glass, but not in the same way as Westerlyn. The glass was smashed and was left on the floor in jagged, glittering blue heaps. The concrete was shattered and tiny little plants grew in the cracks.

Mettaton looked at the thin, spindly green weeds. They grew everywhere, in the gaps between the bricks where the cement had rotted, and under the broken pavement. They had purple little flowers. The sight of them set Mettaton on edge, so he very purposely squashed them under his heel.  
He felt like he hadn't learned anything, so he stopped. But he couldn't take his eyes off the floor; the ground was made of some kind of uneven, grey Tarmac, that was sure to have sent people in lower heels than Mettaton's absolutely flying. And the street was littered with just disgusting stuff.

He checked his phone for directions, and walked fast.

Before he knew it, he was calling Papyrus for directions.

After a brief fifteen minutes, Mettaton was outside of a huge block of apartments. It was a light, sickly brown coloured creature, that stood imposingly tall- but not impressively so. There was graffiti the entire way up the building, some of it so bright and gorgeous against the plain building, and some of it a meaningless, plain scrawl.

There weren't curtains in every window, Mettaton realised as he drew closer. Some of the windows were covered with wallpaper, or with newspaper, or left bare, revealing the very soul of the occupants within.

Mettaton had no idea how to get in, until he located a very ordinary looking front PVC front door. He had to duck to get in, and remain stooped while inside.

It smelt terrible, and the lift had stopped working since last week. Mettaton checked the last text Papyrus sent him again, and sighed when he knew for sure that he was taking the steps up to the ninth floor.

There was someone walking down the stairs, who knocked into him hard. Mettaton reached quickly for the bannister, and clung on until he regained his balance. The human was gone at this point, hadn't acknowledged his existence at all, past grunting in a way that could be insulting or apologetic.

When Mettaton carried on up the stairs, his hand came off the rail sticky, and he reeled.

He couldn't believe his friends ended up in a place like this. It was full of rude people who didn't care if they pushed someone down the stairs, and horrible smells, and he felt gross just standing here. 

He walked briskly through the corridors, eager to get as much of this over with as soon as possible. Quickly, he found Papyrus' door. There was a note on it.

"Bell not working, please knock!"

There was a little heart on it, and Mettaton smiled and knocked on the door.

"uh, hey, who's there?"

Mettaton dropped the smile.

"Oh, hello Sans! It's Mettaton!"

"mettaton who?"

Mettaton rolled his eyes, and gave the door a death stare. It didn't help.

"Metta-ton with this conversation, please let me in."

The door swung open, and Sans was laughing a bit. Behind him, Papyrus and Alphys looked like they were trying to put the apartment back together, and looked caught when Mettaton noticed them. There was a bowl of cereal face down on the floor that Papyrus was trying to sweep away, and Alphys was scrubbing the milk out of the carpet with a frenzied look in her eye.

"uh, yeah, it's a bit of a mess right now. sorry about that." He said, easily.

"SORRY? SANS, THIS IS LITERALLY YOUR MESS! WOULD YOU PLEASE HELP? PLEASE?"

"nah bro, i gotta get ready, it'd suck if we were late." 

With that, Sans walked into the kitchen and disappeared, presumably, inexplicably, to his own flat.

"SANS I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" He shook his fist at the kitchen, looking furious. Then he looked back to Mettaton, and his shoulders dropped- his ferocity had ran its course. "SO SORRY YOU HAD TO HEAR THAT! HI! YOU LOOK GREAT!"

Mettaton smiled, and twirled slowly on his toes, just to show off a little. Papyrus was actively staring, Mettaton didn't mind, and Alphys looked adoringly up at them, on the floor with the cereal.

"Thank you, but- oh, Papyrus, darling, what are you wearing?"

Papyrus' smile unravelled, and he knotted his fingers together.

"OH, YOU DON'T LIKE IT." He looked to the floor, and Mettaton hated himself. He put a hand on his shoulder, and went to explain himself.  
"IT'S OKAY, YOUR HONESTY SHOWS YOU CARE!"

Mettaton breathed out.

"Absolutely, darling! What you have on is nice, but you've spliced together smart and casual too… hm, extremely. Let's go work this outfit out properly-"

Undyne burst through the door in a great, red sequinned ball gown, with an impressive V-neck and thick straps that accentuated her rippling biceps. There was glitter in her hair, which was waved and parted deeply and thrown over one shoulder. Her dress fanned out dramatically at the base, catching the sad, cheap energy saving light, and reflecting it like a disco ball.

Mettaton was in awe.

"THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING TO PAPYRUS?" She yelled.

Mettaton came out of his stupor.

"HE'S JUST GIVING ME SOME FASHION ADVICE; CAN YOU PLEASE RELAX?"

"Papyrus, you look great the way you are! Don't change for this guy's sake!" She jerked a thumb at Mettaton in a way that suggested that maybe she was going to kill him later.

"No, Undyne, this outfit isn't working for him. The tuxedo top with the ripped jeans just aren't-"

"Shut it!! Your negativity disgusts me! Papyrus, if you like what you're wearing, who cares what other people think!"

Mettaton put his head in his hands.

"This isn't some positivity thing! I think Papyrus should stay exactly the way he is, I think he's perfect, but-"

"IF YOU REALLY THOUGHT THAT THEN WHY DO YOU WANT HIM TO CHANGE?" She was breathing heavily in her dress, and Mettaton could tell this was deeply emotional for her. Those few hours between Not-Dating Papyrus and Dating Papyrus clearly made all the difference to Undyne.

"I FEEL LIKE MAYBE THIS CONVERSATION IS A LITTLE BIT LOADED WITH NON-OUTFIT RELATED TENSION? THAT'S THE VIBE I'M GETTING HERE, WHAT DO YOU THINK, ALPHYS?"

Alphys nodded, desperately awkward. 

"SO METTATON, WHAT CHANGES WOULD YOU MAKE TO MY OUTFIT?" He asked, diplomatically.

Mettaton thought very, very carefully about what he said next, because he could feel Undyne's barely bridled fury on the back of his neck.

"Maybe… hm, maybe some smarter jeans, and lose the top button, definitely ditch the tie. Or maybe replace it with a bow tie, if you have one? Yes, that'd be very cute, darling, it'd bring out your personality a little more, I think!"

Undyne didn't seem so much pacified as much as she simply couldn't find anything to criticise about Mettaton's criticism.

"WOWIE, METTATON, THAT SOUNDS GREAT! I'M GOING TO GO TRY THAT ON NOW!"

He shot them both a warning look, before going to his bedroom to go change, and Mettaton felt triumphant until he realised that he was now alone in the kitchen with Undyne.

She looked annoyed, but pointedly talked to Alphys. It was an open plan kind of living space, as in, the kitchen and living room were on and the same. So even when Undyne and Alphys drifted to the sofa, Mettaton could still hear Undyne's loud voice next to the kitchen counter, where Papyrus left him. In some ways, he couldn't help but feel that her comments on the trash new character in the Mew Mew reboot was lowkey directed at him. For Undyne, he supposed, that was a nuanced way of insulting people. She just wasn't known for her subtlety.

Alphys realised after the fifth time Undyne called Mew's new friend a "pretty-boy poser who's just taking up too much of the show," that Undyne was vagueing. She suddenly looked uncomfortable, and started talking about some other anime. Or maybe it was still Mew Mew- Mettaton didn't know and didn't care because he didn't watch trash. Just plenty of wholesome reality tv and horror films.

"By the way, babe you look so cute all dressed up!" Undyne told her, adoringly.

This was Mettaton's problem with Undyne- he knew damn well that she could be really lovely. She wasn't just an asshole, she knew perfectly well how to be nice, and she was entirely capable of being kind, funny, and sweet. She just was choosing to be defensive, touchy and furious with Mettaton. And that was what was driving him up the wall.

"Ahaha, ohmygod- it's nothing!" Alphys blushed, and tried to look modest. 

"Actually, I never really noticed how good dresses look on you! Which is a shame, because they look super great!" She beamed, and gave Alphys a quick peck on the cheek. Alphys grinned too, and settled her head on Undyne's shoulders.

"It's- it's literally nothing! M-Mettaton picked it out for me a-anyway… oh crap." 

Mettaton closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, just waiting for Undyne to lose her shit.

"Why'd you have to change everyone you meet? Aren't they good enough for you the way they are?" She called out from the sofa. In the kitchen, Mettaton recoiled.

But then he steeled himself and stormed into the living room, and made eye contact with Alphys' mortified face. Mettaton opened his mouth to really have it out with Undyne, when Papyrus walked back in.

"Oh sweetheart! You look gorgeous! Do you like it?" Mettaton asked, forcing as much of the tension away from his voice as he possibly could.

Papyrus nodded happily, and Mettaton heared her grumble. He felt that glowing feeling of satisfaction go through him, but despised himself for it.

Then Sans walked back in the door, looking just a little more dressed up. As far as Mettaton could tell, he'd swapped his hoody jacket for a blazer, and changed his shoes. Technically they were different outfits, but Mettaton couldn't really give him marks for effort.

And then it was time to choose a car. 

Papyrus and Mettaton quickly blurted out that they were going in the same car, and Undyne scowled. Alphys patted her on the arm, and they were gone.

Sans and Mettaton had the most lowkey squabble for the front seat, so Papyrus made them sit next to each other. Mettaton felt his hopes for the rest of the night sink, if it was going to carry on like this.

The car journey ahead was long, and Mettaton just knew that it was going to be excruciating.

"SO, WHAT WERE YOU AND UNDYNE ARGUING ABOUT?" Papyrus asked, after about fifteen minutes of listening to nothing but tense quiet.

"Darling, can I be honest and say I have no idea? She just really hates me and I don't really get it?" Mettaton was slightly reassured to know that Papyrus was as clueless as he felt. It was nice to know that they weren't just talking about him behind his back.

"dunno how relevant this is, but uh, apparently she's worried you're gonna find a way to drag paps into your…" Sans made a circular gesture with his hands, and Mettaton noticed he wore gloves. "your tv stuff, yuh know? and just... i dunno, use him like an accessory. or something. i dunno, she was yelling a lot of it."

"THAT'S UM, REALLY SPECIFIC! AND KIND OF WEIRD THAT SHE WOULDN'T JUST SAY THAT?"

Sans shrugged, and Mettaton felt somewhat crushed. 

"THAT'S REALLY JUST THE MOOD YOU PICKED UP FROM HER, OR?"

"yup." Sans replied, quickly.

The conversation felt so closed, and Mettaton felt knots in his soul start to form.

Mettaton stared resolutely out of the window, and had been doing so for a time long enough to feel hypnotic, when he heard Sans laugh gently next to him, at his phone. Mettaton looked up, and Sans shook his head, dismissively, but still smiling. It occured to him that Sans was always smiling.

"WHAT?" Papyrus asked, irritated.

"just a dumb joke i saw, it's nothing."

"OH GOOD, AS LONG AS YOU DON'T SHARE IT WITH US-"

"what did one sad energy drink say to the other?"

Mettaton and Papyrus made eye contact in the rear-view mirror, and Mettaton chuckled a little, at how done in Papyrus looked.

"THE ENERGY DRINK SAID NOTHING BECAUSE IT CAN'T SPEAK, DAMMIT-"

"i'm soda-pressed! heh heh."

Mettaton snorted, loudly. He had a weakness for the type of jokes he mockingly called edgy-dad jokes.

"oh my god."

"NO. METTATON, DO NOT ENCOURAGE THIS MAN."

Mettaton smirked, because he was ready for this. In the underground, you couldn't really say things that'd make people too nervous. It was a public health scare.

"Ooh, I know one!"

"GOD WHY?"

"yeah?" Sans said, looking up. He had perfected the art of only ever appearing mildly interested in anything at any time.

"What did the sad fruit say to the other?"

"i have no raisin to live?"

"Damn, I was going to say 'life's a peach of shit' but-"

"heh, no that's good." Sans sniggered.

"NO IT WASN'T. I HATE YOU BOTH!"

Suddenly, Mettaton was laughing. He saw the look on Papyrus' face, and he was gone. 

"i- i tried to borrow a book from the library the other day. it was about suicide," Sans told him between laughs.

"OH JESUS!" Papyrus yelled, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"yeah, she- she told me to piss off because i wouldn't get it back to her!"

Mettaton put his head in his hands and groaned.

"That was utterly terrible."

"DREADFUL AND ALSO OFFENSIVE!"

"yup!" Sans leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with himself.

"A mathematician looked sad, so I said 'what sum adder with you?'"

Sans rolled his eyes and sat back into the car seat.

"Yeah, it was the killing his family with a chainsaw. That's what sum adder with him."

Sans jolted in the seat and Papyrus yelled incoherently. Mettaton sat back in the carnage, revelling in the reactions.

"ya know, that kinda reminds me of this story I once heard…"

"PLEASE DON'T LET THIS BE WHAT I THINK IT MIGHT BE."

Mettaton shuffled in the car seat. He had a good feeling about this joke.

"okay so there's a talent show in town, and a family- real traditional, mom, dad, brother and sister, they go audition."

"SANS, I WILL MAKE YOU WALK IF YOU TELL THIS JOKE."

Sans shrugged and carried on.

"so, the judge asks them what they do, and they family just says it's a family act, and the judge says good, because it's a family show. the mom says that's not quite what they meant, and start. so, the brother pokes the sister, and she pokes him back, they're starting to get increasingly forceful until they’re jabbing each other so hard it’s leaving marks, and suddenly the brother has the sister's eye out. he's not even phased, he just throws it back at her, it lands in her mouth. the brother pinches her nose and she fucking swallows her own eyeball."

"YOU'RE DISGUSTING AND I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE RELATED."

"No, I want to see where this is going." Mettaton said, transfixed.

"well, the sister's pissed now, so she just jabs him in both the eyes, completely blinding her brother. so he's flailing out for her, and she's staying just out of reach, and chucking his eyes at him. they ping off him like- like- like the worst ping pong balls ever. the parents have just been watching, and the judge started screaming like, two minutes ago, and hadn't really stopped. the judge is just crying at the parents to do something, but they just tell him to wait and see, and the judge is kinda willing to believe this is all part of the act."

"Anyway, the sister's just been karate chopping the brother in the back of the head, you know, moving behind him and- wham- karate chop. The brother looks like he’s gonna go down, k.o-ed, straight up die- but in a complete twist in events, he catches the sister's fist, spins around, dislocates her arm, grabs her by the head and snaps it clean off. that's where the judge calls the police."

"Jesus." Mettaton looked away, and Sans laughed, casually.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU? I TOLD YOU NOT TO ENCOURAGE HIM! AND NOW LOOK WHERE WE ARE!"

"the mom finally steps in." Sans added, taking no notice of the discourse.

"Oh, thank goodness!"

"yeah, she jumps on the brother's head, screaming 'i fight the winner'. Then the dad picks up the daughter's corpse and bitch slaps the mother with it. he said that's no way to treat our children."

Mettaton giggled, nervously, while Papyrus just complained.

"yeah, so the judge has called the police while the mother and father are fighting to the death, physically trampling on the body of the son, while using the daughter as a weapon. they're literally covered in blood, it's awful. did I tell you they're humans? yeah, these guys are humans."

"so the judge just screams, he's crying behind the desk now, 'who the fuck are you people?'"

"and the parents stop fighting, and the dad walks all over the son, carrying the daughter, and cuts his daughter's finger off. He uses the blood to write 'the aristocrats' on the paperwork on the desk, like the worst fountain pen ever. at this point, this isn't even close to the worst thing the judge has seen, so he just doesn't reaally mind. then the mother comes up from behind and smashes the desk lamp into the father's skull until he dies, and slits her throat with the broken lightbulb."

Mettaton stared at him blankly, never considering jumping out of a moving car and running before now.

"then the police show up, and arrest the judge for homicide."

Mettaton erupted.

“I SWEAR TO GOD THAT WAS THE WORST ONE YET. I SWEAR TO GOD- GOD SO HELP ME I WILL THROW YOU- I WILL THROW BOTH OF YOU CRETINS OUT!”

But Mettaton was just laughing too hard, and he could hear Papyrus was fighting to shame them through his own laughter. Sans was laughing too, easy and relaxed. Somehow, despite everything, Mettaton wasn’t sure how he’d ever really been afraid of this guy.

“Now that’s a pretty good story, Sans.” Mettaton said, wryly. After he could breathe again.

“i think it is, yeah!” Sans laughed back.

“But you know, darling… it’s quite funny really, it reminds me of this other story I once heard. About this talent show called the aristocrats!”

“oh really?” Sans chuckled, trying to keep up with Mettaton’s poker face.

“DO NOT YOU DARE!”

Mettaton smiled, wickedly, and told the entire sickening story all over again, with his own, special little details. Papyrus was reeling, Sans was on the verge of tears, and Mettaton felt so proud in the strangest way. It was a lot of fun.

“oh man, that’s so messed up. but I swear i heard of something like that, back in snowdin- it was so creepy. right, there’s a gyftmas talent show every year, right?”

“THERE IS NOT, SANS. THERE IS NO SUCH THING! NOT ONLY IS THIS AWFUL, BUT IT’S ALSO NOT TRUE!”

“Honestly, I hope exactly none of this is true!”

“OH MY GOD THAT’S SO TRUE!”

Mettaton laughed a little, thrilled.

They passed the aristocrats around the car for the rest of the journey. Even Papyrus had a go.

“A FAMILY AUDITIONS FOR A TALENT SHOW, UNRELATED TO CHRISTMAS OR GYFTMAS OR ANY HOLDIDAY, RELIGIOUS OR NOT. THE JUDGE ASKS THEM WHAT THEY DO, AND THEY SAY THEY SING. THEY SING THE NATIONAL ANTHEM, AND THE JUDGE SAYS THEY WERE VERY GOOD. THEY CAME THIRD PLACE IN THE TALENT SHOW. AND THEN THEY SAID THEY WERE CALLED THE ARISTOCRATS, AND LIKE, TEN PEOPLE BOUGHT THE CD. THE END.”

“bro that was so weak.”

“MY ONE HAS A HAPPY END BECAUSE I'M BETTER THAN BOTH OF YOU COMBINED! OH LOOK, WE’RE HERE, THANK GOD! GET OUT BEFORE I LITERALLY CRASH THIS CAR AND KILL US ALL.”

They all got out of the car, and walked towards the rather huge looking building that Mettaton could only assume was Grillby’s. The bright, neon light labelled it as the right place, and with the pumping music and bright light emanating from the place, Mettaton felt that maybe he’d be a little more at home here than he thought he would. The place sounded like it’d be a small-time country pub, just going on names alone.

When Mettaton walked, he walked in time to the beat. He’d accidentally left Papyrus and Sans behind him.

“you know, he’s pretty cool, isn’t he?”

“WELL, AFTER HEARING THOSE JOKES, HE’S GONE DOWN IN MY ESTIMATION. BUT THAT’S OKAY, BECAUSE MY ESTIMATION OF METTATON WAS INITIALLY VERY HIGH, SO IT’S PROBABLY NICE FOR HIM TO NOT HAVE TO LIVE UP TO EXPECTATIONS. AT LEAST NOT AFTER MY EXPECTATIONS FOR HIM HAVE BEEN SHATTERED, LIKE THEY HAVE!”

Mettaton couldn’t help but giggle at that, Papyrus had the funniest way with words.

“well, i’m glad you sorta like him.”

“ACTUALLY I THINK I LOVE HIM, BUT THERE WE GO!”

Mettaton heard Sans choke, and repressed a laugh as he waited by the door.

“I must be honest, I’m actually really excited to be here! It looks amazing!” Mettaton gushed. He hadn’t realised how much he missed club music, and nightlife. With people. With friends.

“YES, IT DOES. TOO GOOD, IN FACT. WASN’T GRILLBY’S THE PLACE WITH THE AWFUL FRIES AND THE BROKEN JUKEBOX?”

“it certainly was. and those fries were great, bro! but yeah, he’s…”

Sans pushed open the door to reveal a thriving night club with a wild looking dancefloor on one side, and a stage on the other, with a few chairs and tables decked out on in front of it. Between these two opposite areas, at the back of the room, a thriving bar was dimly illuminated with a warm glow. Mettaton started to smile, because this felt like home.

“yeah, grillby’s updated a hell of a lot.”

Sans shoved his hands in his blazer pockets, that really ought to have been his hoody, it didn’t really make a difference, and strolled in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw if you want the entirety of Sans and Mettaton bantering about the aristocrats, let me know, because i can update it and insert the full version in. if you really hated that joke, sorry very much!! basically, let me know!


	18. Monstertown Talent Show I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay everyone is friends!

Inside, there was a pleasant murmur of conversation on one side of the room, which was the side Sans steered them in, while Mettaton and Papryus gazed longingly at the dance floor. After they sat down though, Mettaton and Papyrus were happy enough to chat gently, while Sans looked over to the bar.

"hey, papyrus, you want anything? mettaton?"

"JUST BECAUSE YOUR DESPERATE TO SEE GRILLBY! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU, IT'S BEEN LESS THAN TEN MINUTES!"

Papyrus teased, and poked Sans.

"shut up! it's just- y'know, you go to a bar, you get a drink. it's what normal people do, and then- and then you get one for your friends, it's what you do, bro!"

Mettaton had a glint in his eye. He watched Papyrus tease Sans and looked over at the monster behind the bar. The monster was looking over at their table, expectantly. He looked away quickly and started wiping the table when he noticed Mettaton.

"Sans, are you a regular here?" Mettaton asked, innocently, a Papyrus scoffed.

"huh? oh, yeah, i don't mind a drink here after work, nice atmosphere in here and-"

Mettaton interrupted him.

"And the staff?" Sans blushed, and Mettaton didn't really need any more confirmation than that.

"uh- they're all… nice-"

"There's a guy behind the bar, staring at you. Is that Grillby?"

Sans nodded, quickly, looking vaugely queasy.

"oh god, he's looking." He started to turn to look at the bar, but Mettaton rapped his knucles on the table.

"Don't look." Mettaton told him, sternly. Sans nodded and resolutely didn't look.

"Okay, now go order me and Papyrus something. And ask him if he's free next Friday, and don't panic, okay darling!"

Mettaton called after Sans' stumbling figure. He was pushing past people to get to the bar, while nodding at Mettaton and positively running away. Mettaton watched his short figure fight his way to the crowd for a moment more, before turning to Papyrus' awed face.

"HOW THE HELL! I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET HIM TO DO THAT FOR ABOUT THREE YEARS, AND YOU MANAGE IT IN…" He checked his watch. "FOUR AND A HALF MINUTES. HOLY SHIT."

"What can I say, I wanted some time alone with you!" Mettaton winked, but he knew it was hard to tell that he was winking because he still kept one side of his face covered with a long fringe. He'd never really had enough eyes to wink effectively.

Papyrus, however, blushed and leant forward over the table. "WELL, GOOD LUCK WITH THAT BECAUSE HERE COME THE GIRLS AND LOOK PLEASED, METTATON- HI GUYS!"

Papyrus waved them over, and Alphys took the seat next to Mettaton. The tables were small and round, big enough to comfortably fit four friends, and uncomfortably fit three friends and two people who couldn't stand the sight of each other.

"H-Hi Papyrus, h-hello Mettaton!"

"Evening, gorgeous!" Undyne sat down in stony silence. Mettaton sighed and leaned on his elbow, and tried to let the gentle sound of conversation overtake the sulky silence.

"Um, where's- where's sans?" Alphys asked, politely, striving for a conversation. Mettaton usually cringed, but this time there was actually a conversation to start.

"HE'S TALKING TO GRILLBY, LIKE, FINALLY!"

"What does that even mean… he doesn't like him, does he?" Alphys asked, more interested by the second. Her, Papyrus and Mettaton looked around to see how he was getting on. They seemed to be talking, but then Sans caught them looking and flipped them off. Quickly, they averted their eyes and found the table and the menu just fascinating.

Undyne rolled her eye.

"You think he's ever coming back with drinks?" She grumbled, before getting up and leaving to get something for herself. The rest of the table ignored her in favour of hearing Papyrus cover the epic love story that was Sans' life.

"NO ONE JUST PUTS UP WITH SANS FOR THAT AMOUNT OF TIME. AFTER THE FIRST YEAR OF KNOWING HIM, YOU ONLY KEEP HIM AROUND IF YOU ACTUALLY LIKE HIM, YOU KNOW?"

Alphys nodded, enthusiastically.

"BUT HE DOES SEEM INTERESTED IN TORIEL, TOO, SO-"

"Oh, Papyrus, please, as if Toriel and Asgore aren't together!" Alphys scoffed.

"Darling, they're literally not." Mettaton reminded her.

"Yeah but they will be." Alphys responded, dreamily.

"HE'S YOUR OLD BOSS AND SHE'S HIS EX-WIFE. NO OFFENCE, ALPHYS, BUT I DON'T THINK-"

"They will and I know it." She nodded, convinced.

"YOU NEED A LIFE." Papyrus laughed, and Alphys nodded, self depreciatingly.

"W-well, speaking of needing a life," Mettaton nodded, eager to here about anything cool and interesting Alphys might be up to. "I f-found out on the s-surface, Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2 is c-considered the better Mew Mew, and- and since I've finally seen the s-subbed version, it's not… h-horrible? A-and I think it's a-actually a… prequel? So it kind of… develops her character arc?"

Mettaton was somehow completely shocked and couldn't care less.

 "WAIT, START AGAIN, WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT?"

"Alphys' trashy cartoons for babies-"

"They aren't cartoons, they're not trash, and they are not for babies." Undyne snarled, slamming four drinks on the table at once.

"Ah, no, of course they're not cartoons, they're just animated. Which means they're nothing like cartoons. And therefore, they're not trash. And they're obviously for grown adults, how could I not have seen that before. Because they're animated, which is nothing like cartoons. Of course."

Mettaton was sulking, and Alphys flinched. She could never stand the conflict between the two people she cared for the most, which was why she avoided it and tried her best to keep them both as seperate as possible. She shared a despairing glance with Papyrus, who looked like he was finally understanding that some people could never really be on good terms with each other.

"Listen, if you want a go, I swear to god-"

Mettaton thought seriously for a moment about the consequences of yet another bar fight, and then let his better judgement fly far out of view.

"You know what, fine! Let's fricking go-"

"IT'S BEEN SIX MONTHS SINCE YOU'VE BEEN BANNED FROM A PUBLIC PLACE! PLEASE DON'T BREAK THE STREAK, IT'S REALLY COMING ALONG!"

Mettaton breathed out and sat down. Papyrus placed a hand in Mettaton's, and gave it a little squeeze. Mettaton smiled relievedly at him, grateful to have someone there to keep him from the worse decisions he could make.

"I can't believe you were about to just give up on a streak, just like that! You're a quitter, Mettaton."

Mettaton stared at her, and tried to muster the self control he needed. He could see what would happen, according to his record, and he'd been there five times before, but he knew she'd go through the table, and then a bottle would go over his head, and someone would go right through the window. The criminal damage would be awful, and the bar was just too nice to get banned from.

He replayed some of his incidents over in his mind until he had himself together enough to go to the bathroom without flipping the table. He couldn't help but storm out though, taking wide, elaborate strides away from Undyne and her shit, and the hissing whispers of his friends.

He pushed into the bathroom with an explosive bang, as the door hit the wall and Mettaton dropped to the floor. He was grateful for the opulent nature of this particular bathroom. There was delicate wall paper on some of the wall panels, and it smelled like roses.

He didn't think he'd been in a guy's bathroom so nice before.

There was even a chez lounge, opposite the stalls, which had some kind of ostentatious fabric upholstering the doors. The immaculate nature of the delicate room spoke either to an incredibly dedicated maintainance team, or a ridiculously clean customer base.

But Mettaton stuck to the corner of the room, the back of his head pressed to the cool, pink tiles. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and even Mettaton felt like maybe this was overkill. For a bathroom anyway.

He took the room in with vivid detail, because it beat trying to analyse exactly what it meant when you couldn't get on with your boyfriend's best friend. It usually meant you were bad news. But even Mettaton had tried to tell Papyrus that. He took heart in the knowledge that at least Sans liked him. That was a good sign, and went a long way in convincing Mettaton that perhaps Undyne was just particularly difficult. Surely it meant more that he got along well with Papyrus' brother than his best friend?

The fact he could handle the family, which was nothing short of a miracle considering Mettaton couldn't handle his own family.

The door was kicked nearly off it's hinges, and Mettaton jumped. Undyne appeared, sheepish and sullen, and Mettaton tried to somehow sit haughtily on the bathroom floor where he'd been cowering in a ball.

"They sent me looking for you because they think I offended you. Didn't think I'd find you here, really, but I guess it _is_ more your style." She looked around the room and sniffed.

She ran her hands down her dress, clearly looking for pockets. Finding none, she scowled at nothing in particular. Mettaton looked away, feeling his irritation rise again.

"Well? Are you gonna say anything or-"

"Oh, congratu-fucking-lations, you found me. Good job, I'm really impressed. You can go away now."

She tensed full body, as if willing herself not to start a FIGHT, and for a moment Mettaton looked at her with daring eyes. He'd be quite happy to start a fight, right now. Somehow though, he knew it wouldn't be his best FIGHT, the repairs to himself alone would be… extensive to say the least.

"Seriously!" She yelled. Mettaton looked away, coldly, and somewhat satisfied by pressing her buttons. She made a guttural noise somewhere between a growl and an irritated groan.

"Fine. They sent me to apologise because they reckon I'm being 'unreasonable' and 'hostile', but right now- right now I think that's you! I just gave you a friendly phone call to say if you hurt Papyrus I'll break your face, and you were rude to me! You're being rude to me right now! So, sorry for being defensive of my friends, but I think I ought to be, around you!"

She pointed at him, heroically, and Mettaton stood up. He dusted himself down, and walked over to the mirror, and checked his face. It was exactly as it usually was. He smoothed his hair.

"The thing is, Undyne, you're completely right." He spoke into the mirror, and she opened her mouth to talk, but Mettaton carried on before she could get a word in.

"It's just that Papyrus can make his own decisions. I think if I told you a hundred times over that I wasn't going to, to use him, or hurt him, or whatever you think it is I'll do, I don't think it'd really matter to you."

He took a step towards her, and the door. She stayed steady instead of flinching away like people usually should.

"Nothing matters to you unless it's perfect. And look, I've figured out enough to know that I'm… not perfect. Or even close."

For a moment, Mettaton looked dejected, but then he locked eyes with Undyne.

"But I'm strong enough to try, and brave enough to learn! And if you can't respect that, I don't care, really. But I hope you can respect Papyrus enough to let him make his own decisions on life. Because if you can't, then we're going to have a real problem, yes?"

He lost his nerve to wait for a response from Undyne, instead pushing past her and leaving, dramatically.

He looked behind him and saw the small sign on the bathroom saying "female".

"Son of a-" He started. It'd been ages since he'd used the wrong bathroom by accident.

She popped out of the bathroom, with a determined look on her face, and Mettaton sighed. He knew he had to face her really, but he couldn't bear the thought. He waited for her in the short corridor before they entered the main area of Grillby's. There was a stain glass door between them and the bar, so Mettaton knew that they couldn't just duke it out.

Well, they might anyway. Undyne had a reputation for doing whatever she like doing.

"If it means anything, I couldn't get the hang of human bathrooms either. Like, what are they for? Why are there girls and boys?"

"Honestly darling, if I told you, you'd be grossed out."

Mettaton told her, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. She was slouching, her shoulders low and her ear fins drooped. It was clear he'd some how made her feel somewhat bad about the horrible things she'd said.

"I'll google it later, because right now I'm so curious," she laughed, heartily.

Mettaton raised an eyebrow. He wondered why suddenly he was allowed into the exclusive group o people that was 'people Undyne didn't want to kick into the sun.'

"Right." He nodded, and started towards the door.

"Wait!" Undyne slammed a hand down on his shoulder, possibly harder than she intended. Mettaton spun around, quickly, ready to take defence. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Mettaton shifted his weight onto one leg and crossed his arms.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I haven't given you a fair chance. It wasn't right of me."

Mettaton smiled, earnestly. "That was everything I wanted to hear-"

The hand on his shoulder squeezed harder.

"But God so help me, if you make me regret apologising, I will kick your metal ass to the moon."

Mettaton snorted, involuntarily, and then looked her up and down.

"I'd absolutely love to see you try, honey."

Her eye twitched, and then she released him from an iron grip and Mettaton made sure not to check for dents in his plating in front of her. That'd only be gratifying.

"Can I make it clear that we're not friends, I just respect you as a stranger? And I'm going to pretend like I've never met you before, just for Papyrus' sake. And Alphys'."

Mettaton nodded, making an effort to sound relieved that he wouldn't be burdened with Undyne's friendship.

"Agreed. Let's get tonight over with?"

She nodded a quick approval, and they headed back to their table.

"OH THANK GOD, I WAS GENUINELY STARTING TO BELIEVE YOU'D KILLED EACH OTHER." Papyrus greeted them.

"H-hi guys! Did you have a good… a good…" She looked deeply perplexed and desperately awkward. "A good ch-chat?"

She frowned and looked like she wanted to kill herself, so Mettaton tried to make her feel better by wholeheartedly embracing the idea they had a _chat_.

"I think it's safe to say we had an excellent chat, Alphys. Don't you agree, Undyne?"

"Oh yeah, Mettaton. It was super great."

Alphys and Papyrus looked to each other, but before they could inadvertently cause any more drama, the lights went down.

"OH WOWIE, THE FIRST ACT! I WONDER WHO'S OPENING!"

The lights came back on to see… Snowdrake. Mettaton sighed. He remembered kicking this kid out of the comedy club on multiple occasions.

"When I told my dad I wanted to go into comedy, he laughed at me. Well, no one's laughing now!"

The room rumbled, somewhat appreciatively, and the uncertain teenager relaxed on the stage. Mettaton nodded, knowingly. He knew that feeling.

 

The comedy routine, though short, dissolved into a speech about how happy he was to be on the surface with his family. Mettaton felt his lip wobble, and pinched himself hard in the leg to keep himself together. It was honestly moving, and when Mettaton looked over at Papyrus, he saw the whole room was in tears. Especially Papyrus. Big, tough guy bawling.

"That's not funny!" Snowdrake's father called out, elated and proud. Snowy seemed happy to be there too.

Undyne was openly weeping, and Mettaton felt somewhat cheated. He'd only bothered holding back so he wouldn't look pathetic in front of her, but instead he looked stone cold.

He brought Papyrus close, who was taking shuddering breaths and whimpering about the "INSPIRATIONAL YOUNG MAN, I KNEW HIM BACK HOME, I'M JUST SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM HAPPY!" He shrieked and dissolved back into tears, so Mettaton rubbed his back and held him close.

Behind his back Mettaton looked to Alphys. She was staring with wide eyes as tears streamed down her face. She looked less 'moved to tears' and more 'paralysed with guilt', so Mettaton caught Undyne's eye and gestured to Alphys with a quick jerk of his head. She looked shocked, and quickly went to comfort her girlfriend with a close hug, before all eyes went to the stage.

It was Asgore.

He was dabbing at his eyes with a huge, floral handkerchief. He was so endearing.

"What an emotional start to the Monstertown Talent Show! Maybe it's obvious I named this one." The crowd laughed, gently. Everything just seemed gentle in Asgore's presence. More and more people started to sit down, the seats filled up as the dancefloor became desolated.

"Next up, there's a band that's both in the underground scene, and used to be underground also. Like everyone in this room, including me, but I have no music talent, and these people clearly do. Um."

He smiled, shyly, and the audience instantly forgave his lack of showmanship. For a moment, Mettaton was almost jealous. But that thought passed quickly.

"Let's give it up for… Ghost From Home!"

Asgore slipped quickly off the stage, and the lights dimmed again. They stayed low as music started, slow, rhythmic trance music.

Mettaton recognised it and his eyes widened. When the spotlight on Shyren went up as she started singing, he gasped. He couldn't tell if he was terrified or thrilled. Frantically, Mettaton scanned the stage, looking for a synth player, for a ghost, for the only family he could stand the sight of.

He didn't need to look. The lights rose on the stage to reveal Napstablook, looking as they always did. Pensive, perhaps a little distant, and utterly absorbed in their music. They were still wearing the headphones Mettaton found in the garbage for them.

Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over his face as he looked up at the stage and saw people he loved, successful and devoid of him. Listening to the music, to Shyren's haunting melody with no words, to the rhythmic trance and the heavy bass- they'd achieved something without him that he didn't think they could if he was there. The subtlety, the gentle sound of an indistinct chorus, the repeating chord progressions slowly becoming more… everything that Mettaton was would have ruined this.

He was so proud. He didn't want to ruin this by loathing himself, but hearing this effigy, so casual it bordered graceful; it felt like being murdered.

And people were talking over it. Ordinary conversations right over the most beautiful thing Mettaton ever heard.

He leaned into Papyrus hard, Papyrus who was listening and watching as intently as Mettaton, and in that moment, when everyone else was talking and deaf, Mettaton, Papyrus, Napstablook and Shyren lived in another universe, more beautiful than any other.

 Mettaton couldn't look at Napstablook. Not directly. He couldn't look at Shyren. Not when she was searching the crowd for a reaction. He couldn't stop thinking about how he left this behind, and he couldn't believe it was the best thing for them. He'd known it, known that Napstablook was happier not having to squeeze himself between Mettaton's bourgeois life of excess and schedule and broken promises and drunken lies and emotional wreckage and dependency and ever shifting power dynamics.

He knew it with all his mind, but now he was seeing it with his own eyes, and feeling it with his own heart.

He was smiling through the tears. He was so, so proud. He pulled away from Papyrus embrace, and saw confused eyes.

"THEY'RE PRETTY GOOD, RIGHT!" He seemed to ask more than state, and Mettatin was reminded of just how fragile Papyrus really was.

Mettaon nodded, weakly. He couldn't explain what it meant to him to see them, performing, successfully.

Without him.

Papyrus held him close, and didn't ask the questuons Mettaton didn't want to answer. Just offered beautiful, wonderful support, that Mettaton burried his head in and closed his eyes and just enjoyed the sweet music, the looping samples, and the creation of a whole world of music that the people around him were just ignoring.

Suddenly, it just ended. Without a word, the duo just stopped playing and floated off the stage. A few people looked up and clapped, but most people just continued on.

Mettaton froze, and then prised himself away from Papyrus.

He got up and ran to wherever behind the scenes may be, and to his surprise, Papyrus came with him.

"Darling?" Mettaton asked, one hand on the door.

"I DON'T KNOW EXACTLY WHY YOU REACTED LIKE THAT, BUT YOU SURE DID REACT! I'M GUESSING THAT WAS YOUR COUSIN, RIGHT?"

Mettaton nodded, and felt the knot within him tighten. His chest felt tight. His thoat was choking him. He didn't have any kind of idea about what he was going to do when he actually saw them.

"LET ME COME WITH YOU! I'D LOVE TO MEET THEM, AND- NO OFFENCE, BUT YOU LOOK LIKE YOU NEED THE SUPPORT!"

He laced his fingers with Mettaton's, and smiled, hopefully. Mettaton smiled back, and opened the door.

Mettaton saw Napstablook and Shyren packing up the synth and microphone, and felt at a loss.

"Blooky…" He felt stunned. He felt sick. He wanted to run. He held onto Papyrus for dear life as he watched the ghost turn to face him.

"………oh hey……… i thought i saw you here but this didn't really seem like your thing. i would have given you backstage passes if I knew you were coming, but it doesn't matter because you're here anyway, i guess………"

Mettaton laughed, and felt tears prickling at his eyes again. He wouldn't though. He wasn't ruining this.

"I didn't even know you were playing! I didn't even know you kept up the band! Shyren, darling, you were incredible! Your voice is so beautiful!"

She made a pleased sounding noise, and floated over to the corner of the room. She seemed content.

"…do you really think we were good? oh no… that kind of put you on the spot……"

"I thought it was groundbreaking! Spectacular, Blooky! I thought you were spectacular!"

They didn't look pleased though. Instead, the ghost looked uncomfortable.

"…oh……………… thanks mettaton………"

Mettaton frowned, feeling panicked. He thought this'd go better.

"Why, what did you think about it?"

"it's nothing, really……" Mettaton waited, looking at his cousin with a critical eye. "….do you want to join the band again?"

They asked, sounding miserable. Although that was how Napstablook always sounded, Mettaton had developed an ear for their voice, and he knew.

He sighed, deeply, and held on to Papyrus.

"Not if you don't want me there. I… I think you're better off without me."

Napstablook looked up, slowly.

"Your sound has really improved, and it's exactly in the direction I never would have understood. I'm not smart enough to make this kind of music, but you and Shyren have something special."

Napstablook looked at him, quietly surprised.

"thank you… for understanding. it's not like i don't want you in the band……"

"You just want to strike out on your own. I get it, I think I'd be the worst monster in the world if I didn't!" Mettaton joked, smiling waterily. Napstablook smiled back, minutely, and Mettaton felt better. Relieved.

"You can visit anytime, too! Shyren too! I'd love you to get to know Papyrus! This is my boyfriend!"

Papyrus sqeaked, and then recovered himself.

"HELLO! IT'S VERY NICE TO MEET YOU! YOU HAVE A LOVELY SINGING VOICE!" He directed at Shyren, who blushed and hummed happily to him.

Papyrus nodded, happily. Napstablook looked shy, so Mettaton checked the time, and loudly exclaimed how they were probably missing the next act, so had to go.

Napstablook told them he had to go, he had another gig tonight.

"You're getting paid? For your own original music?"

Napstablook nodded, modestly, but smiling too.

"Oh my gosh!" Mettaton clasped his hands to his mouth. "Congratulations!!" He wiped his eyes quickly, in an attempt to avoid being seen crying, and setting off Napstablook.

It was in vain though, and Napstablook cried a little too. He could pull himself together better than he used to though, and it killed Mettaton to know that he was a major part of that process of toughening up. And then, in an utter social disaster, Mettaton went in for a hug. It was instinct, really. He cringed, and Napstablook cringed.

Contact was impossible with Mettaton's big stupid corporeal body.

"Oh, oh god..." Mettaton didn't know what to do with his arms, so he folded them. And then he started to walk away.

"m-mettaton?" Mettaton spun around, eager.

"Yes, Blooky!" "……actually, never mind. I'll see you later, if you like…… around, you know?"

Mettaton nodded, not trusting his voice, and for the millionth time, he walked out on his family and only friend. This time, at least, he was taking Papyrus with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry, but this one will absolutely have typos and problems, and that's because my laptop's having problems! I've written this on mobile, and edited on AO3 Mobile. If you've ever had to use that, you'll have sympathy, but let me just tell you it's awful!  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this regardless!


	19. Monstertown Talent Show II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot is in motion. =)

Mettaton and Papyrus found their way back to their seats. Mettaton could feel concerned glances from Alphys digging in the back of his head, but he ignored them, steadfastly. He'd tell her about it later, when he felt more composed, and less detached from all the feelings.

He kept his hand in Papyrus'. He held on tight.

He saw Toriel on the stage, wearing some lovely off-the-shoulder purple dress. She looked very regal, and she was holding a microphone. She leaned her weight on one leg, and occasionally paced around the stage. She looked like she owned it, and Mettaton thought that maybe he caught some of his own acting tips. Of course, it was possible that she was naturally confident on a stage, and Mettaton was reminded that she was once a queen.

"So, that was how I ended up being the sole Aristocrat in my little act with my family back on the surface, and how I started the war by getting a judge arrested for murder."

She laughed, sweetly, and Mettaton's brain finally engaged with what he was hearing.

"Did she just-?" Sans nodded, laughing and looking somewhat dazed.

"she just… fuckin went there. i think asgore's actually crying."

"WAS SHE GOOD?" Papyrus asked, unable to tell if the aghast audience and the occasional confused clap was the response you'd want from a joke.

"she was fuckin supreme, bro." Sans wheezed, in awe.

"HOW DID SHE EVEN FIND OUT ABOUT THIS WEIRD JOKE! I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A WERID YOU THING BUT- OH GOD, SANS PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN'T TELL THAT JOKE TO ACTUAL ROYALTY!"

"that's the thing, dude, she told me that one!" He cracked up again.

"still can't believe she did it in first person, that's bold. oh hey, tori, that was insane!" Sans greeted her, and Toriel sat down with them.

"Oh, it was just something I thought about on a bit of a whim, really! I heard there was a talent show, and it reminded me of a silly old joke!" She laughed, and Sans just pressed his head against the table.

"GREAT, NOW YOU'VE KILLED HIM. I'D SAY I'M SORRY I MISSED YOUR ACT, BUT I'M REALLY NOT." Papyrus told her in a friendly tone of voice.

"I'm not, I'm rather disappointed! I think if you've killed Sans you must have really said something awful. I wish I saw!" Mettaton told her, enthusiastically. She tittered, and swatted the air as if she'd been complimented.

Mettaton looked over to the girls. Alphys looked confused and also a little ill, while Undyne was staring at Toriel, looking confused and also judgemental. The joke suddenly became clear to Mettaton, more than the shock humour and the relief of the joke ending- it was everyone else's reaction. And that was when Mettaton started laughing too, and Papyrus couldn't help joining in.

"you should have been there," he laughed.

"HE MOST CERTAINLY SHOULD NOT. GOD, PLEASE TELL ME THE NEXT ACT IS ONE WITH MORE TASTE!" Papyrus scowled, inconsiderate of Toriel's presence. It only made her laugh, much to Mettaton's relief.

Undyne laughed, and proudly stood up, just as Asgore took to the stage. Mettaton was in fits again at the somewhat vacant look in his eye.

"That certainly was a joke! I'd just like to publicly announce that was a just a joke, and please don't be alarmed!" He clearly directed that at a whimsalot being fanned and revived by an astigmatism.

"And now, hopefully in a completely different direction, here's Undyne with a piano recital for us!"

She walked up the stage with her wide confident gait, hitching her dress up as she did. Mettaton winced, knowing the dress deserved better than being scrunched up around the knees, just because Undyne couldn't deign to walk a little slower. Mettaton wanted to adopt the dress. It deserved a better life than the one Undyne could give it.

She let her dress down, and for a moment she looked just stunning. She stood in front of the piano, her hair was rippling and she was shining. Then she strode behind the piano and dumped herself down on the piano stool with the grace of a boxer. There was, admittedly, a grace, but she looked like she was going to fight the piano. There was something aggressive in her single bright eye.

She stretched her fingers and began to play.

It was an aggressive song, but playful too. Mettaton couldn't place it, but Papyrus yelled. "UNDYNE THAT'S YOUR BATTLE THEME!!"

She smiled, crookedly, modest in her pride, as she hammered out the song. It sounded like it was being carved out of a mountain, and Mettaton was enthralled. It was undisputedly a battle theme, the intensity and the energy was unmistakable.

She played the piano with her whole body, her back arched protectively over the keys, her head rolled into the sound, the sound that kept rolling. It was a beautiful piece, really, beneath all that energy. Mettaton didn't know when it was going to end, it seemed an unstoppable force that grew exponentially and echoed and roared into the crowed, who cheered back as enthusiastically as Undyne played. Until, without warning, she stopped.

Or, rather, she changed. She looked up, locked eyes with Alphys and smiled, gently, as she played a piece unrecognisable to Mettaton. Suddenly though, something clicked, and he could hear it clear as daylight:

It was Alphys' theme, if her theme could be soft, sweet… romantic, even.

"This must be what Undyne hears", Mettaton whispered to both Papyrus who squealed and looked thrilled, and at Alphys, who flushed and fanned her face with her hands.

The song ended, and there was applause. Finally, the audience had an act that they actually understood and knew what to do with. For just a little moment, Mettaton hated them all for not giving Napstablook and Shyren the applause they deserved, but maybe they'd find it in the next gig. Mettaton would call, and find out.

He wouldn't get as out of touch with his only family again, he vowed. 

A new song was playing, and Papyrus was blushing. There were stars in his eyes and he stood up and yelled; "OH MY GOD THAT'S ME!"

Mettaton smiled, warmly. It was a great song, dynamic and fast and so full of Papyrus' personality. It had the same feeling of Undyne's battle theme, all excitement and energy and dangerous magic and smiles. It was just like him. It _was_ him. It was magic.

Undyne was smiling too, her eye closed. She looked like she was having fun on the stage, sketching out the people she loved for everyone to hear. It was a magical gift that she had.

Papyrus sat back down and Mettaton pulled him close.

"Darling, you sound just fantastic." He placed a kiss on his cheek, and felt Papyrus melt against him.

Behind him, Mettaton let his eyes drift over to the crowd he knew he had. Alphys looked as thrilled for them as Papyrus had been for her, and Sans looked sick. Mettaton felt somewhat validated; Sans lack of resistance had felt too easy and simple. And now Papyrus was looking at him, with deep eyes that Mettaton couldn't resist. He pressed a kiss to his fingerbones, and Papyrus' eyes widened. He smiled, dazed and blushing, and Mettaton just wanted to lean in and kiss him for hours and hours and hours.

But not here. That'd be barbaric. He could practically hear Sans screaming with his eyes, and Mettaton really, really wanted to stay on good terms with Papyrus' family, especially considering that he'd only just formed some kind of truce with Undyne.

He pulled away, as much as he absolutely had to, to catch the flawless transition from Papyrus' song, which he'd lovingly been told was called Bonetrousle, into a new song.

A huge cheer went up with the audience, random members jumping up. A group of dogs howled excitedly, and Papyrus and Sans high-fived. Mettaton didn't know the song. He'd never been to Snowdin, but he'd heard good things. Alphys looked just as clueless, even as Papyrus was yelling about the greatness of his hometown.

"ESPECIALLY AS IT WAS THE PLACE THAT GAVE RISE TO ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" He shouted, over the din of the audience going wild.

Undyne couldn't stop grinning, and flexed her fingers as she took a break. Mettaton clapped enthusiastically, and met her eye. She looked away, quickly, and scanned the rest of the audience. And then, she out her fingers back to the keys.

Toriel froze, and looked up at Undyne with a sharp look. Asgore was just off stage, looking so proud. It took Mettaton a moment to work it out, but suddenly he realised he was facing Asgore's battle theme. Though his body was limited, and although it wasn't a perfect recreation of a living thing, he felt something in his plating, he felt something like the hairs on his head standing on end.

He was awed by the majesty of King Asgore's theme but… somewhat terrified. It was nearly impossible to feel even apprehensive around Asgore, but this song was like a glimpse into the man that fought the war and killed the children. A brief look at the legend of King Asgore, so far removed from Fluffybuns.

He gripped Papyrus as hard as Papyrus was gripping him. It was good to know that Mettaton wasn't the only one feeling the echo of a distant King from the long past who would have scared the hell out of him.

"I THINK I HAVE CHILLS!" Papyrus exclaimed, somewhere between awed and scared. Mettaton nodded, enthusiastically. And then the song changed again, like liquid, and it was Toriel's turn to look flustered.

Asgore looked away.

"this is yours?" Sans asked her, amazed. Mettaton, always fascinated by drama, caught the man behind the bar looking a little forlorn. He straightened up when he caught Mettaton looking his way, and stiffly walked to another part of the bar. Mettaton smiled, endlessly intrigued by other people and their lives.

He looked to Asgore, who looked winded and hurt.

Toriel looked shy, which seemed at odds with her music. It was possible that Undyne had just lent her passion to the song, but that seemed unlikely, considering the rumours about her. The strength, the ferocity, the fire; it was there in the music.

But then, when her song mellowed, and sweetened, although Undyne was playing with her everything, it seemed righter. Almost a lullaby, this was the song that was obviously Toriel's in a way that her battle theme wasn't.

Or, at least it wasn't right now. Which was surely a wonderful thing, it was not often a the best thing for one to _be_ their battle theme, Mettaton mused. Being as old as she was, fighting in the war as she had, her battle theme most likely brought back some unpleasant memories.

Trust Undyne to forget something like that.

Most monsters had at least a few different themes, and it seemed that Toriel was distant from her battles. That was a nice place to be.

When the music swung away, playing something else, Mettaton glimpsed Toriel dabbing at her eyes. He smiled, happy, and wondered whose song Undyne was playing. He didn't have to guess for long.

"SANS!" Papyrus shrieked, proudly and excitedly.

The song was so casual, and filled with warmth. Mettaton had no problem placing Sans with this song… but something nagged him. Especially as Sans seemed somewhat perturbed. Although, that was appropriate too, it could be quite unnerving hearing someone else play the music that was a by-product of a magical aura. Especially on a mere instrument.

"heh, weird." He mumbled, leaning back in his chair.

The next song was one that Mettaton knew very well. He'd grown up with it, and its jazzy sound.

"Oh, if only Napstablook was still here right now!" He cooed. It had been a long time since he'd heard this song, and he tried his best not to well up yet again.

"THAT REALLY IS A SHAME! DO YOU THINK THEY'D LIKE THIS?" Papyrus asked, earnestly.

"No, not at all- they'd probably be so embarrassed that they'd have phased through the floor by now!" Mettaton told him, with a little giggle.

The beat picked up, and suddenly the jazzy swing became something heavier, angrier, and Mettaton smiled crookedly when he heard a yell go up on the other side of the room.

"Oh, Mad!" He gasped. Mettaton remembered back when Mad Dummy back from when they went by Madstablook. They were rude, altogether too fond of knives, and they weren't the greatest cousin to the young Mettaton. But they sure wouldn't let Mettaton take the other kid's crap when they thought he was creepy.

Mettaton looked around, and saw them on another table, quite far away. They looked rather dapper, they'd obviously had their body repaired after Frisk presumably kicked the stuffing out of them. But other than that, they were completely as Mettaton remembered them.

He decided against going over there and saying hello. There'd be too much to explain, they wouldn't actually recognise him.

He saw the whimsums, looxs and froggits cheer as much as their insubstantial forms would let them. It was an earnest effort, which everyone appreciated. A few moldsmalls wiggled as loudly as they could. Undyne must have been playing a song they knew.

He realised Mad Dummy never knew he was going to get a body. They had got theirs before Mettaton ever left the snail ranch. In fact, Mettaton was willing to bet that Mad Dummy never even knew he'd made it big. It was better that way, though. Nothing to explain.

Papyrus looked at him, his face was happy but his eyes were searching.

Mettaton shook his head, still smiling wistfully. "Darling, I'll tell you all about them! Some other time though, trust me. There's too much to say!"

Papyrus nodded, seeming to understand perfectly, and Mettaton exulted. Finally, someone who believed him when he asked to talk about it later!

There was a quieter song, another one from Mettaton's childhood. He watched Aaron and Woshuwa respond with a flex and by cleaning at an increased speed. Mettaton closed his eyes into the song, and tried to sample the beautiful, melancholic sound without feeling the dysphoria and claustrophobia of his childhood. It was a bittersweet feeling, and one that left the room in a relaxed daze.

When the song trailed off, Undyne stood up, beaming at the crowd. She got an enthusiastic cheer. She stretched dramatically, took a fighting stance, and then sat back down. The crowd went absolutely wild, and Mettaton could appreciate her showmanship. Alphys had a nosebleed.

With a manic grin, Undyne began to play, and this time, Mettaton felt the surge of excitement. He stood up and cheered, somewhat automatically. He wasn't the only one.

"OMG Bratty, that's, like, our old home theme!"

"B-bro, remember back when we used to live in Hotland, and we bought all that nicecream?"

A Vulkin, somewhere, squealed happily.

Few actually appreciated the effort and difficulty of the piece, but that only gratified Undyne. Unlike sport and being tough, being good at piano meant making it look easy. Alphys was yelling over to Mettaton, who was cheering as excitedly.

Papyrus smiled widely at them both, and Toriel laughed gently with them. Mettaton had so many complicated feelings about the underground, but hearing this song… he felt pumped up!

It was so much rarer to hear area music now that magic was diluted among every human on the surface. It was harder to cast spells, harder to exude a theme, harder to express speech casing. It's why so many monsters had become mixed, or even lower case, when back underground they'd spoken in uppercase.

It was disconcerting to think about how much had changed.

Undyne was sitting at the piano while the audience chanted for an encore. Undyne got a wicked smile on her face, and made stared at Mettaton with her single beady eye.

"I think I maybe missed someone out!"

She laughed, and a murmur went through the audience.

A thousand ideas went through Mettaton's head, and by the time he dramatically posed full body on the table, without spilling a single drink, and stage whispering: "Oh, I think she may be talking about me!" He wasn't thinking a single one of his thousand ideas. Just feeling for the audience's reaction, just feeding off the audience's response. And Papyrus blown eyes, and pink cheekbones, and slightly parted mouth.

Mettaton gave him a quick wink, Papyrus nearly collapsed, and Mettaton wished he had a rose to put between his lips.

"Yeah, you! Come up here!" She gestured him onto the stage with a great sweeping movement of her whole arm. Mettaton was impressed by how well she performed.

"Me? But darling, I'll get stage fright!"

A knowing laugh went through the bar, and Mettaton smirked, satisfied.

Elegantly, he sat up on the table, tossed his hair back, and coquettishly demounted the table.

Papyrus clutched Alphys in a paralysed state of fan. Uncertainty jolted through Mettaton then, but he was already walking up to the stage with an exaggerated swing in his hips. Old music, old times, he thought.

He felt scared. He felt amazing. It was wrong, and he couldn't stop whatever he was going to do next.

He was on the stage, and the crowd cheered for him yet again. He looked back at all the shadowy faces of his friends, all dark against the stage lights. It had been a long time since he'd felt this thrill. It was wrong, he didn't deserve this chance again.

He let Undyne manhandle him to the middle of the stage, with barely a sarcastic comment made. He said something, and the audience giggled with him, but he didn't quite hear it. The spinning of his fans were loud, and drowning out the thoughts and words.

Undyne gave him a squeeze on his shoulders, and something of his conscious returned. He blinked at her, affirmatively, but she just gave him a playful push. She must have confused it for a wink.

"I've never actually practiced your music before!" She shouted to him, and to the crowd. A collective gasp through the audience and rested on the stage like a ghost, or a breeze.

"Well, that's a shame for you! Something you're hoping to rectify, I see!" He shifted his weight, and looked sassy. It was what he did.

Undyne groaned, and looked at the audience with a "get a load of this guy," look, and they laughed on cue.

Mettaton sensed their chemistry, and couldn't help but take a note in the back of his head. Not that it would do him any good, he was always ready for a new collaboration, ready to put together the act that'd sweep the nation and really make his post-breakdown debut. Not that he wouldn't just keep breaking down.

He snapped himself out of it, he was on stage, he couldn't space out and make a damn fool of himself. He noticed his fingers were trembling, which was embarrassing. He actually felt panic, and a gratitude for a shared presence on the stage. It'd been an awfully long time since he'd been all on his own up there. He couldn't believe he was finding solace in Undyne's presence, which was probably a low point- and he felt sinful for even thinking like that.

She was sitting at the piano, and she'd told him to just stand there.

"And look pretty?" He added, hoping she'd say something funny back.

"You can only do your best, I guess!" She guffawed. The audience were in stitches, and Mettaton repressed a laugh. He had to try and look offended, but he couldn't keep a straight face.

"God dammit," he whimpered into the back of his hand, between strangled laughs. She was snorting too, positioning and repositioning herself over the keys, trying to retain some focus.

The humour wore off, and she looked him up and down with a penetrating glare. He was being read, and it was incredibly uncomfortable. He pretended to preen under the attention, while folding his arms protectively over his chest. She stayed completely focused, and Mettaton refused to fold. She stared at him for another moment, trying to glean some unseen information about him, his aura, his SOUL.

The crowd waited with baited breath. She nodded decisively to herself, and Mettaton was on edge too. He wasn't sure exactly what she'd seen that had made her suddenly understand him on such a personal level-

And then, flawlessly, his song was being played.

It was dizzying. It was wrong, and he felt like he was being hit.

It was not the beautiful song Napstablook wrote for him, the show tune that he tried to use everywhere.

It was the battle theme Flowey wrote for him, everything Flowey'd wanted him to be. The images of Flowey, humming what he thought a cool theme would be, and the hours of trying to remember that and practice it until it was instantaneous and note perfect. There were so many notes, Mettaton swore that Flowey chose it like that to be difficult and hard to get right, just so he could call him names and hit him-

He swore to god he never wanted to hear Metal Crusher again. Undyne looked up at him, and saw a tense, scared looking face. She furrowed her brow, and the notes died beneath her fingers.

He gasped, and went to apologise, before she cut him off. "No, Mettaton, I'm sorry!" She told him, sombrely.

"But I think I can do better if I can try again!" She sat back down, and she waited for him to give the word that she could carry on playing. He took a deep breath, and nodded.

His chords, the ones that were within him since he'd had this body. No one had written that music for him, since no one was around to do that. He didn't realise he'd had a song like that in him, really. When he fought Frisk, he really thought he'd just have Metal Crusher just repeating over and over, but there'd been so much music, so much sensation, so more of him to stretch out than in that silly, cramped form.

"Is that better?" She called out over the bridge, genuinely concerned. Mettaton nodded, and smiled brightly. "This is incredible! How on earth do you do this?" She shrugged, which was impressive, and carried on playing.

"But did you know that once I attempted to contract a musician to play this for me, and he cried. And I asked for so much less of him than what you're giving me!" She nodded, and only upped the ante, the audience started to clap rhythmically. God, it was dizzying how good he felt.

"Although, to be fair to him, his only instrument was a kazoo. I suppose it's a little unfair to compare you," he said, drinking in the laughs that floated from the tables and chairs. And Undyne's hearty chuckle. He smiled when she played it through again, ever more elaborately and passionately, and Mettaton couldn't resist a little pose, just for effect.

It was exactly three seconds in before he started his rapid-style vogue-ing, and some of the bolder members of the audience joined in.

It was very heartening! He met eyes with Papyrus as he did the splits, and blew him a kiss. Papyrus screamed at the stage, and Sans rolled his eyes besides him.

Mettaton was panting by the time Death By Glamour was over, and he couldn't stop smiling. Undyne was beaming too, and the mood in the crowd was just electric! With a cheer, Mettaton slipped back to his table. Undyne was taking her final bow, when Mettaton was bombarded with a whole load of Papyrus.

"WOWIE! YOU ASCENDED FROM AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION TO MAIN ACT! THAT WAS INCREDIBLE!"

Mettaton blushed, tiredly, and leant his weight on Papyrus. "I'm glad you think so, lovely!"

By now, the clear chatter of the hundred or so monsters made the atmosphere a bubbly, happy one.

But Undyne remained at the piano, looking perplexed, and Mettaton could see Papyrus trying not to worry about her. Physically see it.

As the night wore on, and some of the less conscious and less physical monsters started to turn in for the night, it became increasingly obvious that Papyrus wasn't actually going to do anything about it; he broke into a sweat when Mettaton even brought up the nervous way he looked over to Undyne, sitting at the piano all alone.

First, Mettaton casually broke into Alphys and Sans' conversation about boys to ask if Alphys thought Undyne was alright. She told him that she was probably fine, and probably just trying to practice a little, and that she probably wanted to practice alone for a while. After offering that to Papyrus, he was still unconvinced.

Alphys was certain she was absolutely fine. But Papyrus seemed anxious, and Mettaton couldn't bear to see him upset, so he climbed up the steps to go check on his best friend's girlfriend.

It had somehow fallen to Mettaton to check up on Undyne who had solidly hated him until an hour ago. He felt like that stiff truce had thawed into something closer resembling friendship, though the performance they'd shared, but he couldn't be certain.

"Darling? Are you alright? You look a bit lonely out here, on your own!"

He ventured, feeling a little bit stupid.

"Eh! Nah, I'm fine! Just trying to work out your other song!” She smiled, warmly. Mettaton smiled back, eager to talk about the song Napstablook wrote for him.

"Oh, 'It's Showtime' is absolutely fabulous! Do you think you could do it?" He asked, excited.

Papyrus looked at him from the edge of the seating area, where he waited. Mettaton gave him and thumbs up, and Papyrus visibly sighed in relief.

"Yeah! Should be easy!" Mettaton noticed how she smiled with her eye, it crinkled up until it was completely closed. He absently thought about how she would absolutely have wicked wrinkles someday. Inwardly, he cursed his horrible, shallow, vain thinking. Even thinking something like that probably made you a bad person.

She started to play, and it was like freezing water was dumped on Mettaton.

"That's not my theme…" He started, feeling a great dread creep up his spine. He furrowed his brow.

"I've never heard that song in my life, that's not my theme." He told her, sterner than he felt. He felt like he was lying.

He looked up at Undyne, and she looked like she was playing in a trance. Her back was rigid, no part of her was moving bar her fingers. Her one yellow eye bulged in its socket, and her mouth was parted slightly. Mettaton could feel people looking at them. The song Undyne was playing was loud, and repetitive. It sounded like an alarm, and Mettaton abhorred it.

It was pathetic, and wailing, and drew everyone's eyes to them.

Mettaton felt as locked up as Undyne looked; he could only stand and watch. The lid slammed shut so loud everyone heard the ringing sound of the piano, reeling with shock as everyone else did. Released, Mettaton looked to everyone, and saw that only his friends were left in the dark sitting area. The dancefloor remained empty and silent, the tables remained full of concerned eyes and silence.

He could hear Undyne's breaths coming hard and loud, like a saw sliding through logs of wood.

Then the spell broke and he went over to her, but Alphys got there first. She touched a hand to Undyne's shoulder, and for a moment she stiffened fully, every muscle in her body seemed to writhe beneath her skin. And then she relaxed, deeply into Alphys. Her eye was closed, and Mettaton, seeing his chance to escape the stage, ran to Papyrus.

"IF I ASK WHAT JUST HAPPENED THERE, WOULD I LOOK DUMB? BECAUSE I'D REALLY HATE TO LOOK DUMB RIGHT NOW." Papyrus asked.

Mettaton saw his act, knew it intimately. To keep things light and to make himself into a joke all while appearing to have his shit together. Of course, maybe he was just projecting.

"WHAT WAS THAT SONG? IT'S NEVER BEEN ON ANY OF YOUR ALBUMS!" He sounded casual, and when Mettaton answered him, he tried to replicate his cool, confident voice.

"I've never heard it before in my life, but it sounds like some kind of battle theme… oh look, Undyne's doing something!"

He pointed out chirpily. She seemed to be back in the throes of her trance, while Alphys stayed helplessly by her side. She held on to her, but couldn't stop the music. It was haunting, and the air felt electrified. Undyne played not with passion, but with an otherworldly ferocity, and it sounded like the song Mettaton heard her play. But as much as he denied that first song, this one- though it gripped him and shook him inside- didn't resonate like the first one did. Didn't leave him paralysed.

Mettaton felt something sink when he knew beyond doubt that the song Undyne had played for him was his, more than Showtime ever could be. Choppy, shitty, wailing. Compared to the lovely sound of Blooky's Showtime, compared even to the sophistication of Metal Crusher. And compared to this assailant of a song? He felt small.

Undyne roared as she played and it was obvious, so obvious, that this was hers. It wasn't fun like her other song, it wasn't quirky and energetic. It was a real, battle theme. It was a song too raw and too much for Mettaton to comprehend. How could he, living layers behind reality TV and comedy-tragedies, understand anything like this.

She was like a puppet, jerking fitfully in tics as she played. Her mouth hung open as she slaved to bring the monster that was this theme into the air, see it live, only to kill it with a jarringly unresolved chord. She stopped, for a single beat to breathe, and then unrelentingly, the music started up again. Whatever tyrant spell seemed to hold her was unrelenting. For a moment, Mettaton couldn't take the scene seriously.

The way Undyne was now hunched over her instrument, playing viscously, like a vulture picking clean a carcass, she seemed to pluck sounds and notes from between the keys, stabbing and jabbing at the poor ivories. And the way Alphys was either trapped or immovable, Mettaton honestly couldn't tell whether she was as paralysed as he'd felt, or if she was refusing to run away. Whether she was merely stuck, or braver than he could ever be.

She rubbed circles on Undyne's back, and suddenly it was like she was throwing up the music, like she was sick, like she was ill- Mettaton had reached some level of fear where he couldn't take what he was seeing seriously any more. He wanted to laugh, like he always did when he shouldn't, and that made it funnier. He had the self-control, of course, he wasn't laughing. In fact, he was really too scared to even make a noise.

Undyne was an animal.

If this was an act, if this was just a stage persona, Mettaton would have been thrilled. Even as he was too frightened to breath, even over the cacophony of noise, over the noise over noise that threatened to simply kill them all with its sheer intensity: Mettaton couldn't help but wonder who's it was.

What they were like. If they were even okay, because a theme like that-

It tapered off. Undyne's defensive position slackened until it became a slump, her head beginning to nod as if she were about to fall asleep.

Mettaton kept reminding himself that this was really happening, and felt his knees go weak and his breathing go funny. Papyrus was holding his arm so tight, so, so tight.

She stood up, suddenly, and showed the audience the whites of her eyes as her single pupil danced in her socket. She looked truly feral in the moment. Without a word, she summoned a laser-blue spear, and took a wide stance, aiming at the piano.

When Sans appeared, in the blink of an eye, and deflected the spear almost lazily with a thin bone staff; that was when the whole moment took a turn for the absurd.

"heya, it's not the piano's fault." Undyne stared at him with one, furious eye.

He put his hands in his pockets and walked around to her. "and grillby hasn't had that ensured yet, so wrecking it up would kinda be a dick move, y'know?"

Mettaton could count her teeth, he realised with some kind of manic thrill. She was snarling so widely, Mettaton could count them. There were four blunt ones on either side of the two hecking big ones.

"YEAH, UNDYNE HAS GREAT FANGS." Papyrus muttered, intently watching as Sans sat next to Undyne on the piano stool, while Alphys stuttered, pretty much incoherently.

"Oh, I'm sorry, beautiful. I didn't even notice I was talking aloud…" Mettaton mumbled, taking in everything about the scene. Some sick part of him that never stopped was observing and noting down every detail about the events transporting before him, because God it could be a scene in a film.

It'd be beautiful. If anyone had somehow started to lose interest in what they were seeing, everyone was snapped back to attention at the sound of a chords.

"What are you doing, Sans?" She hissed.

"eh, i dunno. it's a nice piano, it's a pretty cool song. anyway, you showed me how to play it, but uh… i can't do the melody, so you kinda have to do it."

She was incensed, and held up her shaking fingers.

"I DON'T REALLY WANT TO PLAY RIGHT NOW!" She yelled. Alphys quietly told him it'd be better if he sat back down, but he shrugged and played another chord.

"nah, you'll be fine," he told her. Mettaton couldn't believe how genuinely at ease Sans seemed, it was as if the universe consisted of Undyne and a piano.

"SANS!" She bellowed. He made a noise that sounded a little like the verbal equivalent of a shrug, and played another chord. She crossed her arms, and shook her head.

"I'm not playing whatever dumb song you want to play." She huffed, and some of the sense in what Sans was doing was beginning to occur to Mettaton. She was actually calming down.

"hey, i'm way too lazy to play this thing with both hands," and he pressed down on the piano keys once more. Like she was reaching for a sweet she couldn't resist, Undyne started playing the notes to the song. It was melancholic. Mettaton didn't like it because it made something inside him ache.

"How am I doing this? I haven't heard this before!! What is this!" She shouted, demanding answers while gently playing the piano.

"it's strange, but actually, we played this loads once. i don't think you remember though." He closed his eyes and continued to play. "no one ever remembers."

For a moment, they just played the song. Mettaton waited with baited breath and watched Papyrus watch with wide eyes. She exploded again, but it felt like normalcy was restoring with every second of the music.

"What the hell does that mean?" She was angry, and obviously shaken, but herself.

"frisk has the power to reset, which is pretty big for just a kid. but they can do more than that, uh, they called it 'true reset'. start again, right from the start. capiche?"

Papyrus shook his head. He didn't understand. For once, he didn't call anything out, he didn't say anything funny and quirky that expressed his true feelings on the matter while completely passing for a joke. Papyrus was reduced to an observer, and that was unusual.

"Stop with this mystical, vague bullshit! Just, just explain, Sans!"

He nodded, and breathed in. He shut his eyes, and stopped playing around.

"t h e y k i l l e d u s a l l"

The room froze, went icy. Everyone's eyes went wide. Mettaton felt something very important shudder and stutter within him, before slowly spluttering back to life.

He cast a more serious eye around the room. Papyrus was right next to him, and Alphys was on the stage, with Undyne and Sans. Toriel was on the same table, Asgore was sitting alone, at the back, looking deeply shaken. Every other table was desolated. Apart from Grillby, far behind the bar, there wasn't another soul in the bar.

"well, not every time, i guess. and not all at once, so, they're not the worst." He shrugged again, and carried on playing. Undyne, stunned and dazed, followed with the melody. It seemed as natural as fidgeting, for her. Sans chuckled, a little brokenly.

"i don't remember much about when you came to live with us, but it was after the kid was done with the underground, they have a weird cycle, see. they start, they go about the underground, sometimes they helped us, sometimes they'd kill anyone that came near them. sometimes they only killed one monster, it was crazy random. and then, they go away. they fight asgore and then they're gone. maybe they die?"

He sighed again, and seemed to notice the sets of eyes on him. "i mean, i dunno."

He wiped his face with his free hand, he was starting to sweat under the pressure and the pressing eyes.

"i, uh, started to make a log of it, on my phone. 'slong as i kept it in the lab, it didn't get reset. weirdly, that lab is like… reset proof. dunno why."

He mumbled, still loud enough for everyone to understand every word of what he was saying, and hear every iota of the strain he felt in saying it.

"S-Sans, um, which l-lab? T-there's only r-really mine?? And?? I-it's not e-exactly for p-p-public use, eheh, um."

She wasn't facing him, but Mettaton could see her awkward, guilty smile. It was the same smile she did every time she thought of her past.

"again, sounds crazy, but one day, i woke up and found a lab at the back of my house. don't remember building it, i swear it wasn't always there, but i just kinda, i dunno, i just went with it."

"That's so fucking dumb, Sans." Undyne deadpanned. He laughed, sharply, and nodded.

"well, anyway, there's a phone back underground that kinda… has all the answers. like, for every big do over frisk did, we got stuck with some shitty, different reality. they, they fricking created new timelines like it was, like it was nothing! and then they just, started up again. whole time lines, just reset, like that-" He snapped his fingers and pressed down the chords at the same time, and Papyrus shook his head.

"I don't believe you." Undyne told him, quietly. Then, louder, "I can't believe you! Frisk, they wouldn't! They can't! We're friends, and I refuse to believe I could ever be friends with a murderer, ever!"

Sans was quiet, but for the playing of the piano. Mettaton squirmed quietly.

"Prove it." She told him, goading. He smiled, flinty, and Papyrus looked uncomfortable.

"OH GOD, HE HAS A THING ABOUT NOT BEING BELIEVED." He commented to Mettaton, was grateful to have some context and information on what exactly he was seeing unfurl.

"WATCH HIM DO SOMETHING WILD NOW, JUST WATCH HIM."

"y'know, we could go to the underground right now. i'll grab my phone, we'll look through whatever information i've recorded… we could see who's right."

She goggled at him, and he smirked, smugly. The horror and the fear had altogether dissipated in favour of this apparent battle of wills.

"WHAT DID I JUST FUCKING TELL YOU," Papyrus hissed in Mettaton's ear, crossing his legs and arms, sassily. Mettaton nodded, impressed.

"That's crazy, how would we get there?" She dismissed, slamming her hands loudly on the piano.

"i know a shortcut." He parried.

"But the barrier!" she cried.

"THAT'S BROKEN!" Papyrus called out, and Undyne scowled at him.

"I meant the new barrier! I saw that in the news like, a year ago!" She countered.

"If I may, Undyne, Asgore and I saw to it that any creature with a SOUL can pass through the new barrier at will." Toriel told her firmly, in her soft voice.

Undyne looked to Asgore, who nodded. She growled and pounded the table with her fist.

"FINE. WE'LL GO!! But I believe in Frisk, and you're gonna look really dumb when you're obviously wrong!"

"Oooooh," Mettaton gasped, perhaps too loudly.

"whelp, that settles that!" He slouched off the stage, and to even his own amazement, Undyne and Alphys followed him. More accurately, Undyne stalked after him, and Alphys waddled after her.

Interested, Toriel and Papyrus followed too, catching Mettaton off-guard.

"uh, everyone's coming along too?"

"You bet we are! What, you scared?" Undyne challenged. Sans shook his head, aloofly.

"We are?" Mettaton asked Papyrus, surprised. It occurred to him that he wasn't usually very involved in things like this. At all. He literally never had been, and he couldn't be sure that he'd be good at it; there was no planning, and he wasn't sure what his role could be.

"YEAH! OF COURSE, METTATON! YOU'RE PART OF THE GANG NOW!" He told him, cheerfully, as they walked out of Grillby's and into the clear, frosty night.

Mettaton whipped round to look behind him and see… empty, unspoiled natural beauty, and the city glittering miles behind him.

"What-" The stars bore down on him like huge, evil eyes, and the moon looked close enough to hit Earth and cause the apocalypse. Never had Mettaton wanted to hide underground quite so much, which was somewhat of a serendipity considering the proximity. He entwined Papyrus hand with his own, and stuck as close to him as he could.

He hadn't been on Mount Ebbot since he was released from the underground with all of monsterkind. It had been a humiliation, to him, that he was with every other monster, and that he had to have his employees take him to the surface, as Alphys had gone on ahead with Undyne in all the excitement. Mettaton hadn't spoken to her for weeks, but now, as he held Papyrus close, he thought he might have an idea as to what was going through her head.

"NYEH HEH HEH, COSMIC SHENANIGANS, AMMIRIGHT?" Weakly, Mettaton nodded.

"You're so right, darling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much!! I've also made a playlist of the songs at Undyne's slot, so that it can be like you were at the show too! And, in some ways, we all were! :3
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLWDjUvHVUi6_2D9oamHm6yDtTKygg0jaB


	20. Bit Bitter Sweet (YEET)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, there's memes in this one. Sorry about that! I feel like Sans would *get* memes because it's like jokes on steroids, and Papyrus just wants to be funny, relatable and cool. 
> 
> I'm just going to apologise in advance for this.

The underground was quite different to how Mettaton remembered it. He remembered a small, but warm place that he could look back on with a smile, even as such horrible things had happened there. As he'd walked down the cave, as dark and claustrophobic as he remembered, he thought about the things he'd look forward to seeing again- Hotland, the crystal formations in Waterfall, and he'd heard such lovely things about Snowdin…

Standing in the throne room, it was clear things weren't as they seemed.

The decay was obvious. Great vines had grown up around the wall in a crisis cross pattern, had spread out among the bricks and burrowed into the crumbling cement. 

On closer inspection, the room wasn't just dilapidated; it'd been violently wrecked with great intention. The great stain glass window was smashed, the glass still glittering in a mound underneath the sill, and left in the window pane to cut anyone attempting escape.

Mettaton wasn't sure where that idea came from.

The twin thrones lay broken in the middle of the miniature meadow, as some kind of monument to destruction. Deep gashes of churned up earth lay in the grass, and the flowers had been torn up. Their yellow petals and ruined stems were left, scattered around the place.

Scratches ran across the room.

"Dreemurr" was etched into the walls, with the word "murderer" scrawled beneath it. Mettaton squinted at one of the iterations on the ceiling, trying to understand what the artist was trying to say.

The realisation was suddenly obvious. In fact, he was amazed he hadn't seen it before.

"Oh, I understand now, it's an anagram!" He called out, happily. Then he felt uncomfortable to disrupt the eerie silence building up between his friends.  
Toriel put a paw to her mouth and tried to breathe through her nose. For a moment, Mettaton was secretly pleased that Asgore had admitted to being too cowardly to go in, but instead had promised to wait outside with supplies. He was glad that he had only offended one out of the two Dreemurrs.

"I SUPPOSE THAT'S THE EASY PART OF THE PUZZLE! THE HARD PART IS FIGURING OUT WHO DID THIS! THEY WERE OBVIOUSLY VERY TALL!" Papyrus observed, looking up at the ceiling covered with the sick anagram.

“hey, tori, i'm sure it's just a weird coincidence!" Sans told her, as reassuringly as he could muster. She nodded, taking a few more breaths, and shrugged off a hand Sans put on her arm. He didn't look put out.

"Yes, of course. I'm certain it's nothing more than a freakish… coincidence." She sounded uneasy.

Suddenly excited, Papyrus started to look around the room.

"OF COURSE IT IS, QUEEN TORIEL! IN FACT, MY OWN NAME IS AN ANAGRAM OF SEVERAL UNPLEASANT WORDS!"

"REALLY?" Undyne asked, before beaming as she resumed her status as an uppercase speaker. The magic of the underground, though diminished by its void of monsters, had still retained more magic than the surface. Not enough for Mettaton to sustain speaking in uppercase. It wasn't good for his battery, as fun as it was.

"YES!" Papyrus called out, as he examined at the mangled mess of the two thrones. One was made of gold painted wood, the other of silver. The paint was flaking and faded, and the glitter caught the moonlight shining though the broken window, and Mettaton almost felt as nostalgic as he did unnerved.

"LIKE WHAT THEN!" Undyne asked back, going over to him. She squatted and looked at the broken thrones, with concentration.

"WELL, LIKE RASPY. THAT'S NOT A VERY NICE ANAGRAM OF MY NAME!"

"bro, that's not an anagram, you gotta use every letter of the word. like, raspy up is an anagram. not just some of the letters."

Papyrus looked at Sans, frustrated for a moment, before Toriel interjected.

"Well, actually Sans, an anagram can use any number of letters from a parent word! Only perfect anagrams need every single letter from their parent word! While raspy is an anagram for Papyrus, murderer is a perfect anagram for Dreemurr."

It was sad to watch her eyes go from bright with the excitement of sharing her knowledge, to dim with worry and shame. Everyone knew what her family had done.

No one blamed either of them. How could they?

"oh. that's real neat, tori. ya nerd."

Mettaton looked over to Alphys with lost eyes. 

"This is honest to god the creepiest place I've ever been, and already I've learned more about anagrams than I've ever cared to." Mettaton deadpanned.

Alphys nodded, nervously.

"m-maybe this r-room is j-just a freak r-room? and e-everywhere e-else will be j-just fine?" She stuttered, clasping her hands together.

"YES! MAYBE THIS WAS ALL JUST DAMAGE THAT OCCURED AS THE MONSTERS CAME THROUGH THE BARRIER! MAYBE THERE WAS A QUEUE AND SOMEONE HAD TO WRITE DOWN  
THEIR COOL ANAGRAM THEY NOTICED AS THEY WERE HERE!" Papyrus called out brightly, losing all interest in the splinters of wood that were once the thrones of Asgore and 

Toriel. Mettaton couldn't help but notice how they looked like they'd been forcefully stabbed into the ground.

"HEY METTATON! YOU CAME THROUGH WITH EVERYONE ELSE, RIGHT? WAS THERE A QUEUE?" Undyne asked, her attention fading from the room and fixing on Mettaton. They started to walk out of the throne room together.

"Not really, but I was one of the last out, so it seems possible that there was a queue maybe… earlier?" Mettaton lied. He wanted to believe that there was an innocent explanation to the destruction of the throne room too. It felt cruel to just shut down such a happy idea. So, he didn't, and he felt tension dissipate just an iota. He felt good for helping that, and bad for lying, and scared, deeply scared, of being back underground.

They moved on, through the capital. It was bereft of the bustle of monsters, and looking down on the rest of the sprawling city made empty was disturbing. It felt ghastly, even as  
they all knew that all the monsters were simply on the surface now.

They'd all been raised on the Angel and morbid prophecies that rang, fortunately, hollow. 

"GOD IT'S CREEPY DOWN THERE!" Undyne muttered, looking down at the empty turrets and cracked walls. 

"I think it has some kind of vibe of, hmm, faded glamour? It looks just like the set of an old film…" Mettaton mused. Undyne rolled her eye, and it occurred to him that thinking of films was somehow a little inappropriate. He didn't know why though.

They walked on, until they came to the Core. It was lit dimly, as though the core itself was dying. Area music played, sluggish and halting. 

This was the sound of dying, Mettaton thought.

The stage Mettaton fought Frisk and locked Alphys out was still there, gathering dust.

"WOWIE THAT WAS A GREAT FINAL EPISODE! I COULDN'T IT WHEN YOU GAVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS LIKE THAT!"

Mettaton cringed when he remembered the fight, and Papyrus picked up on that.

"I'm glad I did. If I'd actually killed them, we wouldn't be here now!"

Papyrus laughed, and Mettaton looked at him quizzically.

"IT'S JUST THAT WE'RE STILL UNDERGROUND, THAT'S ALL."

Mettaton smiled, still confused. He put his hand in Papyrus' and carried on walking through the Core.

They had to walk through Mettaton's hotel, which was coincidentally shaped like his own old form. It suddenly looked so much more foreboding, in the dark. Inside was just as unnerving, his area musical sounding warped and distorted. It was pitch black, with only Mettaton's eyelights to guide them. He jumped when he saw the statue of himself, completely shattered. Water was spilling onto the floor, and their footsteps were loud and echoed strangely.

"Oh wow… I didn't know anyone hated me that much," he murmured, in shock. He could think of a single entity that had felt so violently towards his existence, but he refused to entertain the thought for another second.

They walked briskly.

They came out in Hotland, when they were immediately struck with just how much environment control the Core had done. And by that they meant that there was a lot more lava and it was slowly melting the packed rock platforms and Mettaton was getting warning lights that he didn't even know existed.

Also, he could feel his synthetic hair start to melt, which was horrifying.

"Alphyys I'm dyingg!" He moaned, like a whale. Papyrus' eyes widened, and tugged on Alphys' sleeve. She giggled.

"Oh Mettaton, I b-built you to be way more h-heat resistant than that! I p-promise you, you're just sweating!"  
Mettaton buried his fingers into the slick mess of his hair.

"But why?" He asked, feeling persecuted.

"It's to s-stop your casing from giving other p-people burns, because you're a c-conductor of h-heat. Are you having w-warning lights?"

He nodded, miserably.

"Then that's j-just telling you that you sh-should probably refill your systems with m-more coolant and drink some w-water. G-guys, m-mind if we make a st-stop at my l-lab for Mettaton!"

There was a mumbling agreement from the group, and Undyne roared, "CAN I STOP AND CHANGE AT YOUR PLACE TOO? THIS DUMB DRESS IS KILLING ME!"

"Yeah!!" Alphys agreed brightly, and a regular sort of chatter resumed as they walked.

The heat was sweltering, and Mettaton couldn't stop complaining to Papyrus for even thirty seconds.

"METTATON, HE CAN'T EVEN FEEL HEAT! HE'S A FRIGGING SKELETON!" Undyne yelled.

Mettaton glowered at her, and carried on bitching to Papyrus without remorse or hint of stopping until they stumbled onto the set of one of his shows.

There was a shocked gasp and Mettaton felt all eyes on him.

The kitchen had been pastel blue, and country style. And now, the cardboard was torn, violently ripped into. The knives in the draw were stuck half-way into the handle into the solid counters. 

As Papyrus looked at the knives up close, Mettaton knew that whoever they were, they were strong, very big, and really didn't want to join his fan club. That was evident by how every single appliance lay trashed on the floor. The floor itself looked as though it had been churned up, and the brittle lino flooring hadn't prevented that at all. Slices scored the  
flooring, in long thick lines. The cupboards hung off-kilter and remained on the wall by a spider's web. 

Mettaton felt the need to run, and felt the need intensely, but Papyrus was busy observing the scene of the crime.

"…"

The fridge lay open and dented on the floor, crushed as easily as the hundreds of wrecked tin cans littering the floor.

"…"

Papyrus started to voice his observations, but Mettaton felt more spooked with every second he remained in the ruined set. 

"How about we just go and never come back!" He interrupted, cheerily, and Papyrus nodded. When he looked up at him, he found Papyrus looking as stricken as he felt. Everyone else had been respectfully and disturbingly quiet. 

They walked on in shocked silence for a little while longer. Until they came to a dead end, air vents looming remotely in the distance. They too were wonky, unevenly disappearing into the lava below. 

"s-sans, a shortcut to the other s-side would be, like, so g-great right now." She stuttered.

"do you know how many miles it is from monstertown to mt ebbot?"

"NO ONE KNOWS THAT NERDY CRAP!" Undyne snapped.

"hehe, not even this crappy nerd!" Alphys giggled, and both Undyne and Papyrus quickly jumped in with how Alphys was not crappy and never would be.

Toriel, Mettaton and Sans made the same exasperated face to each other, and smiled.

"whelp, basically all I was tryin to say is... this bitch's empty." Sans gestured to himself.

Papyrus got a wicked look in his eye, and Sans made a start to protest when he heard a light "ding" sound. Mettaton frowned, curiously.

"YEET!" Papyrus yelled as he flung Sans far over the edge, flying over to the next podium. Everyone else jumped out of their skin.

"Is he alright?" Toriel asked, concerned.

"I EXPECT SO!" Papyrus smiled, winningly. "WHO'S NEXT?" 

Everyone backed away at least a step, and treacherously, Alphys pushed Mettaton forward. He scowled at her, and Papyrus beamed.

With a light ding, he felt his SOUL become blue and heavy. His whole body turned a deep, night blue and Papyrus cocked his head, curious.

"Oh, this gorgeous little effect is just a by-product of not technically having a Monster SOUL. A ghost is a SOUL, and that doesn't change when we become corporeal!" He actually felt incredibly self-conscious whenever he explained anything of his non-Monster status.

"SO… YOUR WHOLE SOUL IS YOUR BODY?" Papyrus clarified, and Mettaton nodded.

"Mm-hm." He posed for good measure, and admired his body in blue. It suited him, which surprised him.

"THAT'S SO COOL! SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE!"

"Wait what-"

And he was hurtling over the lava, hot, stale air screaming at him as he cut through it, his body a sharp blue knife. He screamed in sympathy for the air, competing with the high-pitched whistle, until suddenly his body was lighter but he was falling.

He dropped nearly on the platform, left alone with Sans. Sans looked him dead in the eyes and just lay down on the floor.

"don't tell paps, he'd just be worried, but i haven't walked this far in like,"

He started counting on his fingers, and Mettaton sat next to him, concerned he'd have a heart attack and then Mettaton would have to explain to Papyrus that he hadn't just fucking killed his brother just for fun the second he had the chance.

"six months? holy shit, dude."

"Are you having a heart attack?" Mettaton blurted out, terrified.

"what? no! like, probably not, heh. why'd you ask?" He sat up, sensing a joke. He'd be let down.

"Would you be a dear and wait until I have a witness so I don't have the blame?"

"uh, i'm not dying." He told him, plainly.

"Thank God! Oh look, someone's arriving via Papmail."

Undyne crashed into the edge of the podium, narrowly avoided plunging to her fiery death by the tips of her fingers, and pulled herself easily up the ledge.

She rose elegantly from the brink of the packed ground, only to spin around and scream to Papyrus; 

"BE MORE CAREFUL WITH MY LADY, DICK!"

Mettaton and Sans shared impressed glances.

A few seconds later, Undyne caught Alphys in her arms, and spun her into a quick kiss. Mettaton smiled, melting with adoration for his best friend's relationship. 

With dignity and limited panic, Toriel was levitated over to them, too.

"Sans, your brother has incredible control of blue magic! The last time I saw this used, it was for absolutely killing everyone!" She smiled, passively, and Sans just nodded.

"yeah, that's my bro for you. takes the magic for, uh, pulverising people, uses it as casual transport." He shrugged, and Mettaton felt a small smile tug at his lips. 

Where Papyrus found useful applications of killing magic, Mettaton made killing magic out of useful appliances.

The man of the hour descended flamboyantly from the roof of the cave.

"I FOUND OUT I COULD HAVE JUST REVERSED GRAVITY AND WALKED ALONG THE TOP! NO NEED FOR ANY OF THAT DANGEROUS STUFF!"

He smiled, lopsidedly, and Mettaton didn't even have it in him to be annoyed. While Alphys looked flabbergasted, Undyne gave him a clap on the back and congratulated his daring, and then also his intelligence for figuring out the best way for the way back.

He beamed under the praise, and Mettaton felt the strong urge to shove Undyne out of the way and be the one praising Papyrus. He took a deep breath instead, knowing how important Undyne was to Papyrus, and hating to think that Papyrus would think that Mettaton would come between their friendship. He wanted to be an easy boyfriend to have, no drama, no sweat. Just nice, relaxed, good times. He cracked himself up, sometimes.

He walked with Alphys for a little bit, reminiscing about the old days when he was wildly popular despite the hideous form she'd accidentally cursed him with. He avoided dwelling on that, he'd hate her to feel guilty for what she'd done. Not now that she'd replayed him doubly, with interest.

He noticed that they would have appeared to be a funny bunch, walking mainly in twos and having their wild, separate conversations. Sans was joking with Toriel, who was just cackling. Undyne and Papyrus were having some fierce debate, as far as Mettaton could tell, but seemed to be enjoying each other's company in their own way. 

With Alphys, Mettaton was pulling off a trick. It was his party trick, it was what he wasn't proud of, at all, but it never ceased to amaze even himself; what he'd do is command all attention, steer the conversation entirely, and unmercifully drag it around to himself. Simultaneously, he'd despise himself for hogging the limelight, and, feeling this self-loathing, would pull reams of validation from his captive. 

It was gruesome, and while recently he'd been less extreme in this vile tendency, he was highly aware that he was putting the trick on Alphys with every word he spoke. And he couldn't stop. He wished he could, he was practically begging himself to shut up, and he cringed when he sprinkled every other sentence with, "oh, my darling, please don't let me bore you," he felt out of control until, quite suddenly, his voice gave way to static.

His eyes widened and he patted at Papyrus who had no idea what to say or do. Haltingly, he called out to Alphys, who shrugged him off.

"It's- it's really qu-quite interesting! The C-c-core d-disrupts s-signals, like the s-signals of a ph-phone, and the w-way Mettaton's speech s-system w-works is like…"

She paused when she realised her audience was not a hall full of scientific experts, but Undyne and Papyrus were enraptured anyway. Toriel and Sans existed in a world made of terrible jokes that Papyrus wanted no part in. They hadn't even noticed the disturbance.

"Like… umm… it s-sorta works, but not exactly, l-like his brain sort of… phones? Y-yeah, his brain sort of ph-phones his vocal area with the th-things he w-wants to say."

"AND RIGHT NOW, THE SIGNALS CAN'T GET THROUGH, BECAUSE OF THE CORE?" Papyrus asked, clarifying. Sulking, Mettaton started to walk with him.

Alphys nodded enthusiastically, always excited to talk about the greatest feat of engineering she expected she'd ever undertake.

"THAT'S AWFUL! METTATON, I WON'T BE ABLE TO HEAR YOUR VOICE FOR ANOTHER FEW SECONDS!"

Placated that Papyrus was suitably upset with the situation, Mettaton leaned his head on his shoulder.

"CAN WE JUST STAY HERE?" Undyne teased. Mettaton opened his mouth to joke back, but all that came out was harsh static. Papyrus laughed gently, and Mettaton covered his face  
in his hands. He jolted when he felt an arm around his waist, and then relaxed into as much of Papyrus' body as he could, while walking.

As soon as they were free of the looming presence of the dying Core, Mettaton resumed a full chatter with Papyrus. Alphys and Undyne walked together in front of them, and Toriel and Sans lead the way. Mettaton was pretty certain Sans was pointing out interesting stuff to her, but he couldn't be sure. Sans could be telling her anything, literally, anything.

Walking over shut down conveyor belts was a strange thing. Mettaton had never seen the floor so stationary, and it gave him chills. This is what his home looked like dead, and the feeling of Deja Vous was filling him with dread. He did his best not to show it, as he let Papyrus tell him everything he knew about Hotland, which was slowly developing into an embarrassing history of Papyrus' one-sided love affair with Mettaton. He blushed under the attention and pretended to love it while wholeheartedly loving it and wishing he didn't. 

It was very complicated.

"BEFORE YOU, I DIDN'T FEEL LIKE I COULD WEAR A DRESS! SILLY THINGS LIKE BODY SHAPE AND NOT HAVING CURVES WERE KEEPING ME BACK! BUT THEN I SAW YOU IN YOUR DRESSES BEFORE YOU EVEN HAD LEGS AND THAT WAS- JUST- REALLY POWERFUL, YOU KNOW?" He smiled, so full of vulnerability, and Mettaton had to look away. He was like staring at the sun.

"Lots of monsters said I really inspired them with my fashion sense, and i'm really glad! If the old box helped people realise that they didn't need to be perfect to be beautiful, and to be themselves then, then I suppose it was worth all those years!" 

He saw Alphys turn around, and look at him with stunned eyes. He smiled at her, warmly, and wanted her to believe him. He wanted to believe that if he could do it again, he'd inspire all those monsters all over again. But he knew it wasn't true. He knew there'd been a point where he'd have robbed them all of the SOUL to live alone among the humans. 

He'd have taken salvation all for himself, and the thought made him sick.

There'd been more vents to walk over, which Papyrus had managed far less perilously, and suddenly they were back at Alphys'.

It was creepy now. The lights wouldn't come on, so Mettaton had to turn on his bright eyelights once again. He liked being useful, but he hated being an appliance. He felt the energy of the true lab below him, felt negative vibrations underneath his feet that made him alone jump. Only ghosts could see ghosts, the cosmic rule of "takes one to know one" taking cruel shape in Mettaton. There were so many ghosts beneath Alphys' lab, his own being one of the hundreds. Some part of him would always be on a stretcher, somewhere deep below him, in the basement.

He hated that, but he loved holding Papyrus close to him, and if he hadn't been held just as tightly, he thought he'd fall apart.

Unfazed, Undyne stomped straight up Alphys' dead escalators to the wardrobe, where she unabashedly kicked off her dress, and Alphys lost her shit with blushing and flustering.

Alphys rummaged around under desks and inside cupboards he never knew existed once Mettaton coughed and reminded her of the reason they were there. At first, it was hard to tell what was wrong with her lab, what with the dark. Then, all at once, it was clear that it'd been ransacked. Things had been thrown to the floor, every surface had been swiped, leaving the contents of Alphys' cluttered room on the floor. Mettaton accidentally trod on a piece of dog kibble. It crunched to dust beneath his heel, and guilt coursed through him. He had no way of explaining that he was tearing up over dog food.

She started looking on the floor, and she found a jerry can of MTT-Brand Bishie Fluid coolant, which she pulled from particular pile of junk like a sword from the stone.

She offered it to him, and he took it in his hands.

"Alphys what the fuck do I do with this?" He always felt a mortified about these kinds of situations, especially in front of his boyfriend, his boyfriend's family, his boyfriend's best friend, and frigging royalty.

"What, uh, what do you think you do, Mettaton?" 

He threw her a filthy look, and unscrewed the lid to start chugging before she pulled it back out of his hands.

"Mettaton what the fuck?" She laughed, and Mettaton pouted and folded his arms.

"I literally have no idea what I'm doing, so just help me?" He said, petulantly. Besides him, Papyrus started to crack up, and Mettaton couldn't help but draw a parallel between the way Papyrus and Sans seemed to play up for group and the way he and Alphys apparently did the same. It must be nice for them to take a step back and let someone else be the comic relief.

He didn't notice Alphys fill a needle with the vibrant pink substance, and only saw the needle at all when she pressed it into his hand.

He did remember his contact points around his body, tiny, needle deep holes in his plating that went deep into his engineering. He couldn't really begin to understand his body, not really. But he supposed no one else was expected to have a degree worthy understanding of their biology.

He inserted the needle into both wrists, near his collarbones, and the backs of his knees. He did feel crushingly self-conscious, but no one else had noticed, and he'd be damned if anyone else caught on. But as he straightened up, Papyrus' arm around his waist felt a shade too close to protective for Mettaton to really feel like he'd convinced his audience. 

And he didn't even have it in him to feel anything but warmth and love from the embrace.

Seeing the warning lights blink out of existence was satisfying, and somewhat relieving. After Undyne jumped down the entire floor, Mettaton was jealous of her outfit for the second time in a night when she stole Alphys' long forgotten gym-wear. It was a baggy crop top on her, and Mettaton felt desire for athleisure distract him from the noises downstairs that he knew only he could hear.

He held Papyrus close. He pictured cute outfits. He focused his energy in feeling where his fingers touched Papyrus' and distilling his conscious to the divine parts of himself that were touching Papyrus. He made the occasional awful pun with Sans and Toriel as they left Alphys' lab, and had a little banter with Undyne. The accusations wafting from beneath 

Alphys' floor became quieter with every step they took towards waterfall. He knew he'd forget all about them. Just as he forgot them before.

Waterfall was worse, somehow. Although, Mettaton thought, it should be obvious that Waterfall would be worse. It was where happy thoughts went to die even on a sunny day. Of course, no resident of Waterfall would ever have known when it was sunny. He supposed that was why it always looked like joy's graveyard.

And that was why it killed him that the majority of the Underground's natural beauty was found there. The luminous echo flowers, the phosphorus lakes, the crystals and the view of the castle… as far as tourism went in the underground, this was it.

Mettaton's sour view of the place was compounded by that blue, ethereal light being the back drop of his childhood suffering and then his adolescent suffering with Flowey. 

Suffering was a good word for Mettaton to associate with Waterfall.

And yet, it was worse in that moment than it had ever been before. In Hotland, apart from Mettaton's sets and Alphys' home, it was easy to forget the strange vandal. Here, their work was omnipresent and darker than it had ever been before. Thousands of lacerations lined the walls, occasionally coalescing into crude drawings of tasteless murders. Vicious words were hacked into the raw stone, and Mettaton felt shivers go through him. With every passing room, the little group got quieter and quieter until they were silent and huddling together in the history room.

The ancient writing on the wall was shattered, broken beyond repair or recognition. It was so deliberate that even as Papyrus crouched with the evidence, he couldn't explain away each breakage. Even he was beginning to see the intent to hurt.

"THEY MUST BE VERY UPSET!" He exclaimed, as they stared at one plaque that had been shattered. Above it, "I KILLED YOU ALL" was enscribed into the solid rock. Mettaton felt memory stirring within him, but it was lazy, and the thought refused to take shape. It just left him feeling on edge.

They walked quickly past the singing statue of memory, because it hurt to look at its mutilated form. They all had the image imprinted in their minds, long after the wailing sound of the broken, out of tune music box could permeate the dank air of the ruined corridors.

When they reached Mettaton's old courtyard, he knew that looking at his old house could only upset him. At best, long forgotten memories would be stirred, and at worst, he'd see something that'd frighten him.

But it was Undyne that wanted to see her own house, and Mettaton supposed that if even the invulnerable captain of the royal guard was prone to moments of weakness, then he was too.

But looking at Undyne's house was upsetting; it was but a smoking ruin, completely collapsed. Mettaton was in shock.

"OH YEAH, I TOTALLY FORGOT I BURNED MY HOUSE DOWN WITH FRISK!" She smiled, fondly. She clearly cherished this memory.

"HOW DO YOU FORGET SOMETHING LIKE THAT?" Papyrus yelled, and Mettaton laughed. He felt a little less on edge when Papyrus said such funny things. It felt like nothing could truly be so terrible with someone like him around.

"FUHUHU, YOU THINK I KNOW?" She laughed and shrugged.

As he strolled up to his old house, Mettaton felt at peace. It's been tough going, but now he had friends, and he could hear them chatting behind him, and he knew he was a part of that. He'd come out the other side, which put the sweet into an otherwise bitter experience. He knew, deep in his heart, that everything was going to be okay.  
It was when he was standing outside of his house, when he saw the dreadful words written all over it, and the broken windows and the… the fire damage. That was when he clenched his fists. And he was aware of Papyrus walking up to his side, it seemed to take him forever and time slowed down when he saw… 

Flowey. He popped out of the earth, and Mettaton felt like his entire body was an exposed nerve, screaming against every breeze. He could feel Flowey's face scorching into him. His mind was a pain receptor, aware of the damage being done to his psyche. And completely unable to do anything at all. He watched him blink, unbearably slow, in shock, and smile widely in pleasant surprise. Then he pressed a leaf to his smile and winked. The message couldn't be clearer.

"Shh."

Every second he was looking at Flowey was its own eon, and Mettaton felt his legs being to wobble. He was shaking, and he was aware of his eyes being wide and his mouth being slack, so he quickly straightened up and smiled over to Papyrus.

"It sure is humbler than I remember it," he said, with a dry mouth. He was transported to 202X, where he did this to Alphys every day. In the corner of his eye, behind Papyrus' back, Mettaton saw Flowey fist his leaves in a way that resembled a thumbs up, and disappear into the ground.

"-KNEW IT! IT WAS JUST MY HEADCANNON, AND IT WASN'T WRONG! AMAZING!!"

Weakly, Mettaton nodded, and his eyes darted around the nearby surroundings, on guard, terrified of missing an order.

After a few more minutes though, it seemed apparent that Flowey had nothing more to say. Quietly, Mettaton hoped that all Flowey could want was just a glimpse at him. He just knew it wouldn't be that though.

"ARE YOU GOING TO GO IN, OR JUST LOOK AT IT!" Undyne teased.

"I'm not sure, Undyne. It doesn't exactly look safe, and I'd really hate to tell my fans I died in a haunted house."

She scoffed, and called him a loser, and he nodded, absently. As he turned and walked away, he finally caught what he was looking for; he saw Flowey in the single broken window, shaking his head at him.

It was like his essence was in free-fall, and every step he took felt impossible. He'd fucked up. He'd really, really fucked up.

His only hope was on retrieving Sans' phone quickly and leaving quicker.

The group's slow shuffle was maddening, and soon he'd outstripped Alphys, Undyne, Sans and Toriel by a while. Only Papyrus stayed by him, and that only reminded Mettaton to stick with the group for Papyrus' sake. He could cope with Flowey on his own, and he knew that if Flowey materialised in front of the group then they'd protect each other. But just Mettaton and Papyrus alone? He'd be asking Papyrus to defend him, and ultimately get hurt, and he wasn't prepared to do that.

However, the pattern of running on ahead and then dropping behind wasn't lost on Papyrus, who kept asking without asking if Mettaton was okay.

With his chest feeling full of crawling, flying, humming insects, he was finding it increasingly difficult to answer Papyrus in an off-hand, relaxed, and occasionally humorous way, and breathe at the same time. He was playing with his sleeves when Papyrus just asked him straight.

"WAS SEEING YOUR OLD HOUSE DIFFICULT? ESPECIALLY THE WORDS ON IT…" He looked so troubled, and Mettaton felt sick for smiling inside and feeling grateful for the excellent excuse for him to latch onto.

"I didn't want to say so at first… I, hah, it's funny. I hated the place when I lived there, and now that I've seen it looking so lonely and pathetic it makes me feel…"

"LONELY AND PATHETIC?"

"I was going to say a little bit bitter-sweet, but I suppose that works too." Mettaton shrugged with a half-smile. Papyrus smiled back at him, encouraging this heart to heart he thought they were having. 

And Mettaton told him all about life in that house and on the snail ranch and how dirty words were always being written on his houses, and seeing it like that brought back memories. And Papyrus ate it all up all the way to Snowdin, and Mettaton couldn't stop looking for Flowey, not even to look Papyrus in the eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now i'm going to apologise here again!!
> 
> Firstly, for nothing fucking happening againn, i'm sorry! I wanted more to happen, but this seemed like a good place to leave it.  
> Secondly, I'm sorry that it's every two weeks now, but it's way more manageable!! Thank you for the patience, people! Anyway, I hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> BTW- 201X: When chara falls.  
>  202X: When undertale takes place (100 years later, just my headcannon)  
>  202z: When this fic takes place (2 years later)


	21. The True Lab Was The Friends We Made Along The Way

It was cold in Snowdin, something Mettaton registered beneath his panic. This was nothing he could ever have anticipated; he'd felt certain that Frisk had killed Flowey. It seemed inevitable. The last thing he'd seen was the flower attack Frisk, and the next thing he remembered was waking up outside of his house, and Napstablook telling him that the human had opened the barrier. 

That wasn't really what Mettaton was having a tough time reconciling. He couldn't comprehend a happy ending with Flowey in it.

The snow was disrupted with great, slithering tracks. There was nothing anyone could think of that could create such a thing, and Papyrus suddenly lit up.

"I NOW UNDERSTAND THE CULPRIT! IT WAS OBVIOUSLY!! JUST AN ANIMAL!" He shouted, triumphantly. "IT MUST HAVE FALLEN DOWN AT SOME POINT, AND CLEARLY BEEN QUITE ANNOYED!"

Undyne nodded, thoughtfully. "THAT'S GOT TO BE IT."

"animals can't spell, bro." He intoned. The rising mood stuttered and fell on its face. It was bitterly disappointing.

"LET ME DREAM, SANS!"

Mettaton didn't say a word. He was aware of himself acting out of character, but he felt powerless to do anything about it.

They drew near to a huge country mansion. Apart from the castle, it dwarfed every other building Mettaton had seen underground. Apart from, of course, his own hotel.

Papyrus gasped, quietly, and Mettaton turned to him.

"This is yours?" He breathed. With a brave smile, Papyrus nodded.

"IT USED TO BE…"

Sans, completely unfazed by the incredible damage, confidently walked around to the back.

"I MEAN, SANS PAID THE RENT, SO I GUESS IT USED TO BE HIS TOO!"

"eh, i was just rooming there, it was totally yours." He called from the back of the house. With no small amount of trepidation, the small band of monsters followed him, to see 

Sans standing in the open doorway of a messy looking room. The door was busted off its hinges.

"it's not the most impressive lab you've seen tonight, but uh, come on in?" He walked into the gloom, and after a moment, everyone else did too.

It was the final cursory check before going in; that was when Mettaton saw Flowey again. He couldn't move, for just a second, and Papyrus' questioning eyes were on him.

"I- I don't think I can do this-" He stuttered out, quickly, easily sounding panicked. 

Papyrus put his hands on Mettaton's shoulders, who wished he could just live in this small moment forever and ever.

"I KNOW IT'S SCARY. EVEN THINKING ABOUT OTHER TIMELINES MAKES ME DIZZY, LET ALONE TIMELINES WHERE FRISK HURT PEOPLE AND I COULDN'T STOP THEM-"

Mettaton nodded, feeling Flowey's patience tick away, somewhere unseen.

"It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. I… I'll be fine in just a second, I just need a moment to," He laughed, dryly. "To pull myself together."

Papyrus smiled, warmly, and stayed with him. He wanted him to stay forever.

"Darling, just go on ahead, I'll be fine!" He laughed, desperate not to let tears well up. 

"I CAN WAIT FOR YOU TO CALM DOWN! IT'S NOT A PROBLEM!" He told him, supportively.

And it was supportive. It was so supportive that it was agony.

"I, I just need a moment alone, really, 'Pyrus." He mumbled, feeling sick to his stomach.

He expected Papyrus to look disappointed, or even be angry at Mettaton's rejection. Instead, his face was unreadable.

"THAT'S OKAY TOO! I'LL BE JUST IN HERE, SO JUST COME ON IN WHEN YOU'RE READY!" He smiled brightly, and locked Mettaton in a quick hug. Mettaton clung, and kissed him, to   
remember the feeling as much as he could.

And then they were pulling away, and Mettaton was taking a step back and promising to be back in just a moment, and Papyrus was looking worried.

And Mettaton looked back at him, and tried to tattoo the memory of Papyrus, alone in the snow, a smudge against the canvas.

"I'm just going for a quick walk, darling, I'll be right back!" He called out, brighter than he felt. He didn't want Papyrus worried.

He walked around the front of his house, safely out of view of anyone still lurking around the back.

And then he waited.

"Howdy!" A small voice called up to him. Mettaton jumped, and felt everything kicking into an overdrive, and suddenly everything was happening to Mettaton.

"Oh god, this is going to make a great therapy sessio-"

He was shoved into the side of the house, and Mettaton opened his eyes. He didn't know when he'd closed them, but he was faced by a pair of beady eyes that had haunted his nightmares for the best part of an entire year. With every second, Mettaton felt his terror disengaging, letting go and leaving a numbness in its wake.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with him?" Flowey spat.

"What?" Mettaton breathed, uselessly, and attempted to back up further into the solid wall of the falling house.

Mettaton watched the fangs in Flowey's mouth manifest in a sharp smile, and looked away, far into the distance.

"Papyrus, you trashbag! What are you doing with him! Are you dating?" He said, sounding disgusted.

"I, yeah, we've been on a few dates-" He answered. He felt lightheaded, and he was smashed against the house. Ten hundred memories played before his eyes while diving further   
into a useless stupor.

"You think you can just- do that!" Flowey shouted. Mettaton felt flecks of spit land on his face, and he was briefly aware that while his hands were technically free, he was too scared to move. Too scared to bring any attention to himself, possibly for the first time in his life.

"He's amazing! Someone like you, hah, you're someone like me! I know you are! You think someone like us gets to stay with someone like him!"

Mettaton felt a vine gripping his chin, and he was looking up into Flowey's face. It was as pale as milk, and contorted into a mask of pure fury. His eyes were wide and pitch black. 

Fear was a tingling emotion crawling over Mettaton, but one that he could only feel on the outer rim of his consciousness. It was a tinge on the edges of his mind, compared to the numbness pushing away.

And it was with this stupor and numbness and the overriding feeling that this couldn't be happening again, that Mettaton spoke.

"Why not?" He muttered. 

Flowey's eyes popped, and for a moment he looked feral. The corners of his mouth flicked sharply up into some amused grin, and Mettaton got that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"B-Because he loves me, and-" He forced himself to continue, through clenched teeth to stop the stammer, with tight fists to stop the shaking.

And then he was aware of the vines, the ropes winding around his legs, around his fingers and arms. Mettaton went rigid, and he watched Flowey sway hypnotically.

"And you think you can love back?"

Mettaton nodded, quickly, and Flowey laughed in his face.

"You can't love, silly! You've got more of a SOUL than me, but waay less of one than him!"

Mettaton looked away as Flowey taunted him in a sing song voice.

"When someone feels something, he feels it too! Did you know that's what real monsters have!" Flowey told him, and Mettaton looked back to him. He shook his head.

"It's called empathy, Mettaton. And I always knew you never had any. You wanted to feel things, but so did I. And I can't, so I know you can't either. So, what do you think you can do with someone like him?"

Every word struck against him, and Mettaton gasped.

He saw Flowey flash a wicked sharp grin, and then there was force. Stronger than anything he'd ever felt, force pulled Mettaton down. He felt himself begin to slip slowly at first, through the snow and then into the mud.

When he saw Flowey dip easily into the earth, he knew what was happening.

He'd never popped up with Flowey before, it was something he assumed that only he could do. He assumed it wouldn't mean anything good to go wherever it was Flowey was taking him. He started to struggle violently against the vines that were pulling him along with Flowey. Mettaton opened his mouth to scream, but somehow, the vines snapped   
quickly around his mouth. He looked around to the house, desperate for someone to see him, get help but…  
With a sharp yank, he was suddenly below the earth.

And it was terrifying. He was hurtling through a material that was not used to being dived through. Dirt filled his nose, and he was suddenly glad to have his mouth covered- he wouldn't have been able to stop screaming if he tried, and he was sure he'd have choked to death on the tones of earth.

Stones and pebbles smashed against him as he was pulled at breakneck speed underneath the underground. It was pitch black, and the earth was in his eyes. The thought that 

Flowey might let go, and leave him tones under the earth, for him to waste his battery away, or fill with dirt until he drowned in it, it left him shuddering and screaming against the vine across his mouth.

And then he was being pulled up, and out of the rubble. He lay on the floor, panting against the concrete. Pieces of it lay in great shattered plates, a kind of ghostly green that Mettaton began to recognize when he wiped as much of the mud out of his eyes as he could.

Flowey patted his shoulder, brushing off the residue, and Mettaton flinched heavily.

"You got rid of the shoulder guards!" Flowey whined.  
Mettaton looked at him, his vision wavering for a moment, Flowey doubling and coalescing before his very eyes.

"They didn't fit under any clothes…" He slurred. 

"Since when did you wear clothes?" Flowey's face wrinkled, and Mettaton felt a flash of anger.

"I wasn't naked, it was armor! Very stylish and sexy armor at that!"

Alphys had designed it. 

"Then how come you let a child beat you up?" Flowey lunged to his face, and the crazed look in his eye had returned.

Suddenly, Mettaton's life fit between the last time he saw this look and right now.

Surely you could only get torn in half once and live.

He couldn't answer. He couldn't speak. He opened his mouth and shut it again, and Flowey growled, angrily.

Mettaton full body flinched, and looked back to the floor.

Slowly, Flowey retracted into himself, became smaller. The breathing room returned, and Mettaton indulged with earnest. He couldn't stop, and he was starting to go lightheaded. 

He was hyperventilating, and collapsed back into the floor. He saw Flowey moving towards him, his face looking placidly concerned.

Mettaton uselessly struggled against the floor, and saw Flowey closing in.

"You need to breathe?" He asked, coldly.

Mettaton ignored him, and rolled onto his side. He pressed his eyes shut, and tried to count to ten.

One.

Two.

Three-

"DON'T IGNORE ME!" 

The sound echoed uncomfortably loud, and Mettaton felt himself rolled over. Harshly. He heard everything scrape against the linoleum floor, and Mettaton saw the churned up concrete stick out against the great chasm in the floor.

"How long has it been, up there?" Flowey asked, sickeningly.

Mettaton wanted to answer. Every impulse in his body begged him to answer and placate Flowey as much as possible, or at least not directly antagonize him. But it was as though his voice had seized up, as though his jaw had locked up.

"Mettaton…" Flowey taunted, condescension dripping from his voice. His eyes glittered, and Mettaton couldn't make a sound.

Then he looked irritated.

"How long have I been down here!" He sounded petulant.

Like a child, Mettaton thought, as Flowey let out an impatient sound somewhere between a growl and a roar.

And then he stretched out from beneath the rubble he'd been sitting in, and Mettaton's eyes widened. There was reams and reams of thick stem, first as thick as a branch, and then as thick as the tree trunks Mettaton had seen on the surface. Flowey was laughing, the sound going from a warped giggle to a dark, unhinged laugh.

Flowey was craned over him like a poised cobra, his wide petals skimmed the ceiling. 

Mettaton forced himself up onto his elbows, and started to shuffle backwards. He felt a vine wrap closely around his ankle, and scrabbled at it, kicking wildly, desperate to prize his fingers underneath the tight coils. Instead, Mettaton could only watch as the pressure ramped up, and up, and up. A crack in his plastic casing ran up his leg, and Mettaton cursed, loudly. Flowey tutted him, and Mettaton watched his display light up with warnings. He could feel the pressure building up, and the cracks shooting up his leg, but the shock of his lower calf shattering left them both stunned.

In the moment Flowey let go, Mettaton took his fragment of a chance. With a strength he didn't know he possessed, he lifted himself up off the ground, onto his strong leg. Then onto his weak leg. It gave way beneath him, and he landed with a yelp. In the corner of his blurring vision, Mettaton could watch Flowey sitting back and watching.

"This has to be a nightmare," Mettaton breathed, and Flowey laughed again- sounding monstrous.

"Please, the nightmare's barely began!" Flowey was exulting. The joy in his voice was unmistakable, and shook Mettaton to his core. It was a horrific thing to know that the rest of one’s life would play out in minutes, maybe an hour at best.

While Flowey appeared to evaluate what to do first, or simply sit in the terror, Mettaton took a moment to flick his eyes around the room. While it was completely decimated by Flowey's arrival via the floor, Mettaton recognized the grid pattern on the flooring. And the dark walls. He remembered waking up in a room like this, close by, as a physical body for the first time.

It sent a wave of dread through him to learn that he was in the True Lab. Once he'd placed it, he could hear the haunting melody, slow and distant. He grit his teeth; the knowledge was unbearable. If he died where he was born, his net movement would have been zero. His whole life… zero.

He forced himself back into a more present state when he registered Flowey talking. He'd hate to miss an instruction and further agitate him, he wanted to survive, if possible-  
"-everything I hate about you. Starting with… your hair!"

Vines erupted from the floor, quickly pinning Mettaton down. Instantly, he started to thrash against his bindings. He started to slow when he saw another vine approach his face, almost cautiously. It was somewhat hypnotic, watching the gentle approach, and Mettaton had stilled by the time it reached him.

Softly, Flowey patted his hair.

"You're so pathetic. I actually can't believe you." Flowey cooed, stroking the thin plastic strands, taking small sections and twirling it around. "It's so… fake. And really obvious, too. And this… god, you're like a cat or something. Ew."

Mettaton closed his eyes, just willing the exchange to be over. 

"Ugh, you're some kind of freak, aren't you? Just sitting here, like this. Like, who do you think we are… friends?" He laughed, a little sadly.  
Mettaton didn't answer.

"Hey!"

Mettaton's eyes snapped open, but now he couldn't speak. A flash of irritation went across Flowey's face, and he pulled on Mettaton's hair. Hard. Really hard.

Reflexively, Mettaton went to his scalp, but just jerked against the thick vines around his wrists, snaking up his arms. Flowey laughed, gleefully, and yanked hard on Mettaton's hair. It came away with a ripping sound and a torn scream, and a full body judder from Mettaton. A sadistic smile was carved into Flowey's face as he started to pull away thick chunks of Mettaton's hair.

"It's- what's it even made of anyway, huh?"

Mettaton pulled his knees to his face, trying to hide, but he merely felt the vines go taught and leaving him exposed.

"Ugh, there's no point talking to you, you're too stupid to answer!" With a final tug on Mettaton's fringe, Mettaton flinched and watched the long black hairs fall away. They littered the floor. 

"Wow, now I can see your face!" Flowey chirped, brightly. Mettaton felt a prod on his cheek, and turned away. Sternly, his face was turned back to Flowey's, who was looking at him with disgust.

"You're not even finished. It must have been years, and-" he broke off into manic giggles, and Mettaton tried to look away, even as he was held in place. Hair tickled his arms and chest and legs and it reminded him of his vulnerability in a uniquely humiliating way.

Flowey poked near his unfinished socket. It was a perfect circle, like an exposed eye socket, filled with a plain white sensor. Around it was plain black casing, the bare minimum for safety. It took Mettaton a moment to recognize the very tips of Flowey's vines prizing at the metal plating on the other side of Mettaton's face, and he jerked away, quickly. At the same time, Flowey found some leverage, and pulled on the case.

The metal came away like a mask, clanking loudly on the floor. The sound echoed, and snapped Mettaton out of his terrified stupor. Mettaton reeled with the overwhelming instinct to run, and once again felt Flowey's restraint turn slack. Perhaps with shock, or perhaps Mettaton could struggle now with a strength he didn't know he possessed. While he couldn't create adrenaline, some spectral version of it coursed through him. It was with a numbness that he slipped through the vines, almost easily, and ran down the adjacent corridor.

He knew this laboratory like the back of his hand. He'd spent hours down here, before it was so very haunted by Alphys' regrets.

There's always been a negative energy, though. He ran past screens that sometimes showed messages that didn't exist. 

He thought of a cheap, plastic, ball-point pen. Once, he'd gripped one too hard, and it had shattered and cracked. But he could still use it, as long as he was careful to hold the pieces together as much as he could. That was how Mettaton ran on his cracked leg. He'd locked it at the knees and ran lopsidedly. It was agony, and his breaths came out like a chainsaw engine, constant and harsh. He heard Flowey calling for him down the corridors, his voice warped with the strange aura of the lab.

It's been there before Alphys had made her dreadful mistakes. A remnant of the previous Royal scientist. Mettaton could only gather that they'd done some fucked up shit down here and all, or maybe the place was just cursed. Maybe they'd cursed it, vengefully, and then fucked off somewhere far away.  
Mettaton closed his eyes for just a second, wishing he could just disappear too.

He dived down different corridors and through rooms, looking for the way out. He didn't know the place well at all. Thinking about it, Alphys had mainly put him together in her tiny flat in New Home, and slowly assembled his EX. form in her room. There'd been a good reason to leave the True Lab alone.  
He ran past the beds, covered in a thick layer of dust. The sight of them made his eyes sting. Once upon a time, his best friend's sister had lain on one of those beds, had woken up in those beds and thought she'd carry on her normal life. He stumbled, suddenly, and fell hard. The cracking sound and the smorgasbord of warnings behind his retina made him realize how serious this was.

He sobbed, dryly, and gritted his teeth against the pain, and looked down at his leg. It was shattered, but still attached to him with wires- some of which were frayed and broken off, but a scant few remained intact. The plastic casing had been ruined, and revealed his metal infrastructure. He gagged, and looked up at the ceiling. He heard the far-off scream of his name, and shivered.

An idea struck him, and looked under the bed. If he could make Flowey believe he'd escaped from the True Lab all together, then he could phone Papyrus, get help, get someone to get him out of this hellhole. He could hide under the bed.

He got onto his good knee, unable to wince now that he lacked the face to do so, and peered into the gloom under the bed.

It was too dark. 

A bright pair of eyes stared back into his own, and the void writhed under the bed.

He jumped back in surprise, and the shape followed him into the open. It towered over him.

It only took him a second to recognize Lemonbread, and he gasped.


	22. Special FX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What goes around, and all that Jazz.

He started to tremble as he looked for a feature that was hers. He started with the eyes, but they belonged to a stranger. Her whole head was someone else's. Her body was thick and rippling with muscle, and congealing on the floor.

It wasn't her.

His soul could recognise hers though. He could see her behind the bodies, and his burnt-out wires contorted into what would have been a smile.

It was good to see her! He'd missed her dreadfully! As he stared, he started to reconcile this body with that soul until he couldn't see anything but Syren. She was exactly who he wanted to see, she was someone who could help him, who was strong enough to fight Flowey and call his friends.

It was her. He'd couldn't remember why he hadn't visited before.

She crashed down on him just a split second before Mettaton's world faded to black and he entered the FIGHT.

His mouth was slack, his HP was low. But he knew Syren was a singer, a talker, not a fighter. Her attacks would be gentle.

Blue and orange magic blazed across the void at him, and Mettaton jolted.

He couldn't move, her weight was crushing and his leg was broken. He took the hits and grunted, desperate to retain his hiding place despite the ruckus Syren was causing. 

*Mettaton called out to Lemon Bread

Mettaton frowned, as he had called out to Syren, specifically. He'd begged her to stop.

Lemon Bread hadn't even registered his cry for help. Her teeth shook in her mouth. They rattled out a familiar tune, and Mettaton nodded encouragingly.

  *do you think i'm pretty? *do you think i'm pretty? *do you think i'm pretty? *do you think i'm pretty? *do you think i'm pretty? *do you think i'm pretty? *do you think i'm pretty? *do you think I'm pretty *do you think i'm pretty? *do you think i'm pretty? *do you think i'm pretty? 

Phlegm splattered on Mettaton's face. It burned.

"Syren?" He whispered, looking up into a face he'd forgotten he didn't recognise. Her teeth jangled out a song they'd written together. He was meant to have played it with her, Shyren and Blooky, back when they were a band. Back when Mettaton could work in a team.

He gasped, and looked away. He couldn't look anymore, not now. Not after he remembered he'd killed her.

They made a dry gurgling noise, and conjured a mighty maw to bite down. He looked up at teeth that dwarfed his whole body, and felt hope drain from him. He couldn't dodge, and fell back against the floor.

*Mettaton has low HP. They stood over him, and Mettaton locked eyes with the Amalgamate. Their eyes were thin, snake like, and nothing like Syren's. He wondered where she was among the dripping, shifting mass. He called out for her. He called until tears ran down his face. They hissed against the bare wiring.

Lemon Bread seethed. They fired yet more energy at Mettaton, wild and unformed. He grit his teeth and dodged for all he could.

*that's what they all say *that's what they all say

He considered his options carefully. Calling out to a specific SOUL among the tangled mess of monsters hadn't helped. It seemed to have upset them. The pain beat steadily through Mettaton's body, and he shook his head. He had to concentrate; thinking of the needs of others was difficult enough for him even when he wasn't in agony and running for his life.

He tried to unhug Lemon bread. There was so much about Lemon Bread he wished he could undo, so an unhug seemed like the place to start. The melody of pulsating flesh rang loudly, sweetly even. The energy of the True Lab resonated between Mettaton and Lemon Bread, and when they seemed to remember something, Mettaton smiled for them. Smile as best he could without a face.

His vision was beginning to tunnel occasionally, and he felt a deep sense of peace between the flares of panic and the very brief flashes of unbridled rage. At Sans for bringing them back to this dump, at himself for even seeing Flowey, at Flowey for starting this shit in the first place, at Alphys for making him, for making the Amalgamates, for making Mettaton. The rage had to compete with the smothering sense of acceptance, and the manic energy of panic, though. It didn't get very far, and was never given the time to truly blossom.

Mettaton quickly dodged Lemon Bread's attacks, his ragged breathing became wild with the terror of near misses. He cast his eye to his HP for just a second, and cringed. The next attack he couldn't dodge would kill him, he was certain.

He looked at his options, at the many ways he could ACT. It was fairly apparent that he was attempting to appeal to the various components of Lemon Bread. Looking critically at the monster(s) in front of him, it was obvious that some large part of Lemon Bread was an Aaron. Limply, Mettaton attempted to flex for him. He remembered how much Aarons just loved to show off, and it was the kind of positivity Mettaton could get behind. He needed Lemon Bread to feel positively.

He looked into their eyes, searching for some kind of reaction, hoping that they'd remember themselves, and SPARE him, or at least lower their ATTACK. Instead, they roared at him, and sent teeth whistling down at him. He'd been hoping for someone in there to just help him.

  *but nobody came *but nobody came *but nobody came *but nobody came *but nobody came *but nobody came 

*but nobody came *but nobody came *but nobody came *but nobody came *but nobody came *but nobody came 

Mettaton was shaking at the end of Lemon Bread's turn. He just tried to breath normally for a moment, and stop the leaking from his eyes. The fluid was sizzling on the overheated panelling on his face and neck. It wasn't water, but supposedly excess coolant. Alphys had explained to him that water and robot interior didn't go well together, which was why she had neglected to give him tear ducts. The crying was a terrible sign that something was terribly, terribly wrong. He tried to ignore it and calm down.

Without even noticing, Mettaton started to hum a familiar tune.

*Lemon Bread seems to remember something.

Mettaton's hopes raised just a little, and Lemon Bread paused.

*i've felt this before  
*i've felt this before

 

*i've felt this before  
*i've felt this before

*i've felt this before *i've felt this before *i've felt this before *i've felt this before *i've felt this before *i've felt this before *i've felt this before

*i've felt this before

Bright balls of blue and orange magic came blazing at Mettaton, who rolled out of the way for all he could. His thrashing was hell, and he could feel the remaining wires holding his knee and thigh together become more and more strained. His teeth crushed together, and his face was wet and steaming with tears.

But, finally, Lemon Bread seemed placated. They spared him and melted away, into thin air, without Mettaton ever catching a glimpse of Shyren.

Hearing the sound of the True Lab start up again finally impressed upon Mettaton that he'd survived with 3 HP. He knew where a vending machine would be, but he couldn't risk getting caught by Flowey. For just a minute, he stayed where he was.

Then he dug around in his pockets, looking for anything he could possibly find. He struck gold with a packet of Monster Gum in the back pockets of his jeans, and a lollipop he found in his blazer. He didn't have a clue where it came from, but he crunched on the hard candy with gratitude. The Mystery Lollipop had raised his HP by 12 HP, and chewing and swallowing each piece of gum was worth 5 HP each. With 72 HP, Mettaton did not feel in any way good, but he did at least feel sturdier.

He found his phone in his pockets, too. He began to tap out a number, when his name rumbled through the lab.

"METTATON!" Flowey called, his voice reverberating against the tight corridors and stainless tiles.

"Shit!" He gasped and dropped his phone. It clattered against the floor, loud enough to echo, and Mettaton froze. He couldn't even make a sound. He listened to any of even the slightest noises he could pick up, any indication of Flowey's presence. He breathed again when it became apparent that it was impossible to tell where Flowey was. He just couldn't gauge if he was near or far, or just around the corner.

He let the silence ring for a strained moment, before turning his eyes back to his phone. As his existence continued, and he remained uninterrupted by old friends, he unlocked his phone quickly, and punched in the numbers. It rang twice, and Mettaton felt lightheaded.

He was praying. The call connected.

"METTATON! HI, WHERE ARE YOU! ITS BEEN AGES!" He didn't have the words to explain at all. A furious roar sounded in the labs, closer than before. It was impossible to tell if it was Flowey or a stray amalgamate, and either of these two options terrified Mettaton.

"Shit, shit, shit-" he whispered, and began to drag himself across the floor. He had to get somewhere less open.

"METTATON, WHAT'S HAPPENING?" Mettaton couldn't breathe a word. All Papyrus could hear was ragged, laboured breaths, and a haunting melody.

"ARE YOU HURT? JUST SAY NO IF YOU'RE NOT?" Apart from his shallow gasps, Mettaton remained silent. Back in Snowdin, Undyne, Sans, Alphys and Toriel all looked at Papyrus with mounting concern. He paced the room, firing more questions down the phone that Mettaton couldn't answer.

"CAN YOU HERE ME?"

"IS ANYONE ELSE THERE WITH YOU?"

"WHERE EXACTLY ARE YOU, ANYWAY?"

"I'M PUTTING YOU ON SPEAKERPHONE, IS THAT OKAY?"

When met with the background noise of the phone call, Papyrus rolled his shoulders and pressed the button. The song of the True Lab crackled through the speaker and filled Sans' make shift lab. Most of the group shared puzzled glances. Apart from Alphys, who stumbled back.

"W-w-what the h-hell?" She knitted her claws together. "W-what c-can he w-want with that place...?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ALPHYS?"

"I- i think he's in the T-True Lab... where all the, where the... where I accidentally created the..."

"METTATON, DO YOU WANT US TO COME AND GET YOU?" Papyrus leant in close to his phone, and barely caught Mettaton's response.

"Please," he murmured, nearly drowned out by the background noise.

Papyrus started pacing again, nodding to himself. "OKAY, YEAH, I'M ON MY WAY!"

"Don't", Mettaton whispered on the other end of the line. He was dragging himself along, holding the phone to his mouth with one hand, and pushing himself forward with one leg. His injured leg scraped loudly against the floor, completely limp. He winced not only with pain, but at the sound. It rang clearly through the chilled, ventilated air.

He may as well cover himself in jingle bells and fairy lights, and sing Mariah Carey for all the noise he was making.

He rolled his eyes through his skull and pushed on. His aim was a promising looking corridor that should take him to an elevator.

"METTATON? METTATON! WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Papyrus was yelling down the phone, and Mettaton merely turned the volume down as much as he could. He could still hear Papyrus' voice well away from the receiver. He sounded like he was on the brink of tears. He hated himself for doing this to Papyrus.

"Don't come alone… bring everyone…" He mouthed against the mic. He tried to catch his breath for a moment. "Bring food…"

"WHAT!? WHY?!" Mettaton hauled himself through the threshold of the corridor to find… a dead end. He hissed in disappointment. But there were some tables he could hide under, and maybe recover somewhat. Maybe he could even stay there, if Papyrus was coming to save him.

"Please… please hurry," he gasped. He inched over to the tables, and as he approached them, he noticed a door. He felt the wires around his mouth stretch into what would have been a smile. But he continued to aim for the table. He needed somewhere to hide and rest, even if only for five minutes. He heard a distant rumbling.

Even if only for two and a half minutes, he corrected himself.

He reached his goal, and huffed with a slight satisfaction. He rolled on his back, just for a moment, and everything hurt. He groaned just thinking about how much getting back up was going to hurt. He could hear Papyrus calling for him down the phone.

"I'm still here," he breathed. He had to stay quiet. "He might hear me, that's all."

"WHO?!" Papyrus shouted down the phone.

"Flowey. He's, hah, I should have told you earlier, it's Flowey."

For the first time since Mettaton called, Papyrus was completely silent.4

"OH. WELL." On the other end of the line, Mettaton heard him draw a sucking breath.

"I'll be fine but I'd really appreciate a bit of a rescue party, like, asap. Dreadfully sorry I couldn't really make it back myself but-"

"NO, NO, IT'S FINE!! JUST STAY SAFE AND WE'LL ALL BE RIGHT THERE!" There was a chorus of yeahs and encouragements down the phone that made him feel a little stronger, and braver than ever before. He gained a whole HP.

"BUT I'LL STAY ON THE LINE! YOU DON'T HAVE TO ANSWER IF YOU THINK ITS NOT SAFE, BUT I THINK IT'D BE BEST TO KEEP THE LINE OPEN!"

Mettaton hummed his agreement quietly as he edged closer to the underside of the table.

"Oh! Oh!! I wish I'd installed all that tracking software!! That would have been useful! I wonder if there's anything I can track…"

He heard Alphys muse, and he laughed a little. It was like being back with his friends, when he heard them banter about Alphys' shady science.

It was when he approached the mirrors that he felt his vision tunnel.

"Oh god..." He dropped the phone in shock, and couldn't break his stare with himself.

He couldn't believe what he'd become. Two round white sensors were embedded in deep sockets, and surrounded by black plastic and metal structure. He could see his teeth and where each one was implanted into his face. He put his hands to his mouth in pure shock, and watched a number of the hundreds of wires tighten around his eyes and mouth. He was so expressive, and each of these wires had pulled on intricate, interlocking metal pannels to simulate every expression with incredible nuance.

Now he just had bulging eye sockets and a raw, fixed smile.

Stray hairs hung from his scalp too, where Flowey hadn't been methodical about pulling every one out. As he stared, the revulsion swelled up in him. He was utterly transfixed.

When an amalgamate manifested next to him, Mettaton barely noticed. It's tail, which seemed to resemble a spinal cord, flicked from side to side, like a cat. Mettaton couldn't pay it any attention. Not compared to the monstrosity he found in the mirror.

It drew near, and Mettaton didn't care. Not while he looked this way.

It'd been okay when he didn't have any idea. On his other side, another of Alphys' old friends appeared.

Reaper Bird stood there, on the edge of Mettaton's peripheral vision. He could see them clearly in the mirror, as it looked in the distance.

He let it block his exit. Where was he going to go now that he'd become an abomination?

Behind his crouching form, Lemon Bread appeared again. He bowed his head. He had more in common with _them_ than he did with the group outside somewhere, trying to salvage a wreck like him.

They inched closer, a steady crawl that Mettaton tracked in the mirror. Dread was filling his core, but he paid it no worry. Somewhere, he heard voices down the receiver. The worried shout of Papyrus, and Memory Head's crooning filled the room.

*Come Join The Fun

Mettaton accepted, listlessly.

*Then, Hold Still.

Something, somewhere, reminded him that he deserved this. Another part of him wondered what he could offer these monsters, if he didn't have as much of a SOUL as the average monster. It was typical that being absorbed by a group of twisted science experiments would actually benefit him above anyone else. It was so funny. Hysterical, in fact. As the thought occurred to him, he laughed out loud, until it was agony to even move.

He lay doubled over in the floor, arms wrapped around himself, and twitching occasionally with barely contained sobs. It was just that funny.

A tendril touched his shoulder, his thoughts bled into the others' flesh.

_He remembered holding a phone and crying with the words the speaker was saying. They cut so deep._

_He'd been looking blankly out ahead, into the patch of echo flowers. The words reverberated through them, getting higher pitched and more hysterical with every utterance._

_"YOU'RE NOTHING, SYREN!"_

_"NOT COMPARED TO THE REAL STARS OF THE UNDERGROUND! THAT'S WHO THE PUBLIC WANT TO SEE. WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT TO SEE YOU?"_

_"WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO OFFER THE UNDERGROUND? HOW CAN YOU GIVE HOPE TO MONSTERKIND WHEN YOU HAVE NONE? YOU'RE A FRAUD AND A CHEAT, AND EVERYONE ELSE KNOWS IT!"_

_The months had been adding up. He remembered that he wasn't a strong monster. All he'd ever had was his voice, thin and reedy though it was. All he'd had was his wonderful sister, Shyren, and his friends, Hapstablook and Napstablook. And it'd been okay, until that wasn't enough. Stars weren't made of friends and family and vulnerability. Stars were like Mettaton, full of strength and charisma- utterly flawless in every way._

_But he could be strong too. He knew that he could prove himself in one final way. The nightshade and bleach would show the underground his strength. That he would have had the power to be a star. That he could be selfish and put himself before Shyren and Napstablook, and Hapstablook, wherever he'd gone._

_The nightshade and bleach would let him be selfish. It would take him from the calls. It was selfish. The last thing he remembered was regret, before the world took a step to the left and never come back._

Mettaton didn't expect to wake up. He hadn't hoped to regain consciousness an inch from Flowey's face, but he was beyond accepting that things were now well beyond his control.

"Well Howdy there, _darling _!" He laughed, putting on Mettaton's voice, and borrowing his face. His whole, perfect face. Mettaton burned with envy, before he saw the trembling in Flowey's petals and the teeth in his smile. He remembered danger.__

____

"Did you try… to escape me… by being one of _them_?" He laughed. Defiantly, Mettaton nodded.

____

Flowey tutted, and began to circle Mettaton. While he could no longer see Flowey, he at least recognised the room. He'd watched so much TV with Alphys back in the day. Back when the lab was a creepy place, but nothing like the present day.

____

"Well, I betcha real grateful I saved you before they got you!"

____

He looked away, even though Flowey was now behind him. He refused to give him any of the satisfaction by interacting with him.

____

"I saved your life, and you don't even wanna talk to me?" He sounded frustrated, and Mettaton felt that anxious feeling rise within him. The one that left him just too paralysed to do anything at all.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay! I finished my a-levels and basically wanted to retire from living, but hey, look, i'm actually still active! updates should be more regular now that i'm back in school! i'm hoping to have this done before the end of school, because it was the summer holidays that killed my last fic! But seriously, thank you for staying by this fic for so long!


	23. Bare bones ending- not prose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-prose, play by play of the plot for the ending. I'm so sorry I couldn't complete this fic, but I can at least sum up what was meant to be. This would have played out over more chapters, but in the end I just couldn't face writing them, and my mind has moved on. Again, I am so, so sorry, but for everyone who has kudosed or commented, I want to thank you. Your support kept this whole thing going for much longer than it would!

After fighting and temporarily killing dragon!flowey, the group rush a badly injured Mettaton back to the surface. They have already collected the phone from Sans' lab with the tapes from other timelines, and it is with this that they will remember the timelines that are haunting their nightmares.

They drive to Undyne and Papyrus' house (it's closest) and Alphys tries to fix as much of Mettaton and back up his consciousness to their computer. She uses the spare robot body from her uni lab to fix most of his body. While mettaton is unconscious he becomes ghostly and active, picking up signals from the Amalgamates and Gaster. He convulses, speaks while unconscious, levitates and makes lights flicker and electronics glitch.

After Alphys fixes his body entirely and updates his conscious, he doesn't remember any of his possession.  
After seeing no reason why he can't, Alphys lets Mettaton drive home to his house. Papyrus goes with him, and they finally talk about Flowey, and the impact.

Papyrus ends up living with Mettaton, and their relationship is entirely confirmed. Though Mettaton still has depressive episodes, they go to therapy sessions and counselling together, and look after each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so sorry for ending it like this. But thank you again for reading, your kudos and your comments meant everything to me while I was writing this!

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, please give it some kudos or a comment, it makes my life! Xx


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